


Mine is the Fury

by BintLilith



Series: Mine is the Fury [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragons and Direwolves, F/M, Future Fic, Gendry is a Baratheon, Older Arya, Spoilers for Book 5 - A Dance with Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BintLilith/pseuds/BintLilith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do titles mean in a wartorn land?<br/>Honour can't buy you safety, but a sharpened blade can.<br/>Your origin will not feed you, but a drawn bow will.<br/>In a place where a bastard may become a lord and a lady a killer.<br/>Love, hate, wrath, vengeance. What will prevail?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

When they told him she had left with the Hound, Gendry began thrashing around and was geared up to follow them to wherever the man would have taken Arya. However, the members of the Brotherhood brought him back to reason. The Hound would bring the Lady where she belonged – to her family.  
Gendry sullenly accepted the fact and tried to let her go from his mind although he knew he would never forget Arya Stark. 

Then, several days later word from the Twins arrived. The Freys together with the Lannisters and the Boltons had betrayed the King in the North, slaughtering him and the wedding guests at the feast they were attending inside Walder Frey's hall.  
The feast where Arya would have been as well.

When Gendry had finally comprehended the message he felt knocked out by the feelings spreading inside of him. He felt a heat creeping from his feet to his head. He felt himself choking on the anger. The wrath was making him dizzy and he thought he would faint. He clenched his fists until his nails drew blood. He let the fury devour him and screamed. He screamed her name and cursed everything. He cursed the gods, he cursed the seven kingdoms, he cursed the houses, he cursed the Freys, he cursed the Hound and he cursed her for leaving him.  
Until he felt so powerless that he began his weeping. He wailed and he mourned where no one could hear him until he fell asleep when the first rays of sunshine were already emerging.

 

He woke up to the sun warming his face, with a stiff neck and an entire aching body. He must have fallen asleep on the ground. Then he recalled the evening before. The cold reality hit him again and filled him with nausea. Her face was dancing inside his mind and he felt thick, hot tears leaving his eyes. “Arya“, he breathed soundlessly.  
It was not possible. She could not be dead. Not the fierce, powerful warrior queen of the North. Not the feisty, stubborn girl that had lived through so much with him. They had survived the Gold Cloaks. They had survived Harrenhal. She could not be dead. Not Arya. 

He got up from the ground and walked inside the Hollow Hill to where Lem, Anguy and Tom were sitting together discussing something with hushed voices.  
He felt disgusted by the sight of the casually conversing men, whereas for him the world seemed to come tumbling down.

“I will find her“, Gendry said with a firm and determined voice as he had reached the men.  
The older men were sighing, consternation on their faces. Apparently they were expecting this. “Lad...“, Lem began.  
“I will go and find her and never leave her again.“  
“She's dead,“ Tom tossed in.  
“Then I will avenge her.“  
The men were exchanging troubled glances. “His is the fury, indeed“, Anguy said to Lem with a low voice. It confused Gendry. He was clearly missing something. “You'll get yourself killed“, Lem tried to soothe him again. It merely annoyed Gendry and boosted his anger.  
“I don't care.“  
“The Lord of Light has other plans for you“, Thoros spoke behind him.  
Gendry turned around to find him and Lord Beric Dondarrion. The boy twisted his mouth and raised his head with a defiant expression. “I don't care about your Lord of Light. Or about any god, for that matter.“  
“Even a King needs the Lord's guidance“, Lord Beric argued calm and patiently.  
“Screw your Lord of Light. I don't care. I will get her back.“  
“Gendry...“, he heard Lem saying. “She died.“  
“No. The message only spoke about the King in the North and his mother. There was no mention of Arya. She might as well have escaped. As long as I haven't seen her dead, I will not believe her dead“, by now Gendry was screaming.  
Anguy let out a long breath and threw his hands in the air exasperated. “And what d'you plan to do? March inside Frey's castle and demand her body? You'd only get yourself killed and do no one any good.“  
Gendry attempted to shout again but was interrupted by Beric. “Ser Gendry, you're a knight know. You can become much more.“  
Gendry furrowed his brows and looked to the ground. “I'm a bastard.“  
“This you are. A bastard knight. But you can even become a bastard lord. Why throw your life away?“  
“I don't need no title. I only want her back“, tears were threatening to escape his eyes again.  
“Fight for her, Gendry. Fight for Westeros. And if it is R'hllor's wish, you someday may be worthy of the lady.“  
Gendry gasped. He felt the hope returning. “She's alive then?“  
Thoros nodded slowly. “The flames did not show her. Neither dead nor alive“, yet it was enough for Gendry.  
“She lives. Arya lives“, he was smiling although tears were wetting his cheeks.  
“She might, Gendry“, Beric once again interjected. “Don't let the fury devour you. Let the fury strengthen you, for yours is the fury.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments. I feel honoured. I hope you will also like the further development of the story.
> 
>  
> 
> **** Season 7 talk ****
> 
> Hello everybody. :) thank you for stopping by. Isn't it great to have Gendry back on the show? However, I don't really like the new season. The reasons are widely, discussed in social media and so forth What about you? I am anxiously waiting for TWOW. :(


	2. The Bastard Lord

Gendry knew he was wasting his time. The Brotherhood without Banners had long since given up on their goal to protect the Riverlands. Ever since Dondarrion had died and the Lady Stoneheart had become their new leader, the Brotherhood was nothing but a bunch of murderers, blinded by the hatred of a dead woman. And they were once calling him foolish for all the anger and hatred he was harbouring.  
The Brotherhood had reached the peak of absurdity when they captured Brienne of Tarth and her squire and were about to hang them. Brienne, the woman who once had pledged to Lady Catelyn to protect their daughters with her life. Gendry had been outraged and disgusted. He had ascended their scaffold and cut the nooses, freeing them, bare of any fear for his own life. He had lost any fear when he had lost her.  
Lady Stoneheart had threatened him and he had raised his sword and would have gladly killed the Lady if it had not been for Arya. After all, the creature had once been her mother.  
The Brotherhood also had objected but he had only declared his loathe for their actions. He was standing on the scaffold telling them how they were betraying the people they once were so eager to protect. They were betraying the seven kingdoms and they were betraying Dondarrion who would have been repulsed by their crimes.  
They had let them go. Brienne and her squire had left the Hollow Hill and Gendry went to the Crossroads Inn to work at the smithy.

Two years had passed since then and no word from Arya had ever reached him. There had been news of the bastard of Bolton marrying Arya Stark but Gendry had thought the bride an impostor.  
Gendry was standing inside the smithy forging an armour for himself after he had finished the warhammer and another bull helmet. A warhammer like his own father once had used.  
Shortly after Lady Stoneheart had been resurrected he had learned about his true parentage. His father was the late King Robert Baratheon. He no longer was merely Gendry, a baseborn bastard. He was Gendry Waters. The bastard of a drunkard and a whoremonger. The bastard of a fat, pitiful man who had impregnated half of the seven kingdoms. The bastard of a man who had never known he existed. The bastard of a tavern wench who had gladly spread her legs for a king.  
Gendry had felt ridiculous and ashamed. He still felt. But worst of all, everybody had known. Everyone, but for him. The men of the Brotherhood were looking at him – at the spitting image of Robert Baratheon – and he had been oblivious to it.  
Enraged by the thought Gendry hammered into the armour with all his force. He hammered and hammered and opened his mouth to scream, when he caught sight of a startled Jeyne Heddle. He calmed down and put the hammer aside. “Good morning, Jeyne.“  
“Mornin', Ser Gendry“, she entered the forge sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You've been working all night, haven't you? I thought perhaps you were hungry.“  
The girl had been subtly courting him for the best part of the year. He had realized after a few months but he had never been interested in anything she was able to offer. He shook his head at her question. “Thank you, Jeyne. I'll finish soon enough but I'll come inside the inn before my departure.“  
Jeyne drew the air in sharply. “You're leaving?“  
“Yes. Early on the morrow.“  
“Will you go back to the Hollow Hill?“, Gendry was aware of both the hope and alarm in the woman's voice.  
“No. Not the Hollow Hill. There's nothing left for me at the Brotherhood.“  
“But where? Surely not King's Landing?“  
King's Landing. He snorted at the thought. Cersei might no longer be dwelling in King's Landing but the Dragons – Daenerys Targaryen and her nephew Aegon – were sitting on the Iron Throne and they did not hate his late father any less. “The North“, he said plainly.  
Jeyne's face changed into an irritated expression. “The North? What's there in the North?“  
“The wall.“  
“But... Gendry, you won't take the black, will you?“, she had bolted towards him and was grabbing his sleeve.  
“We'll see about that“, he grinned but there was no humour in his eyes.

 

***

He left before dawn. Before they had gone to sleep Gendry had told his goodbyes to Jeyne, her sister Willow and the orphans. Jeyne was sobbing awfully, nevertheless she had given him provisions. Probably enough to last until he would reach White Harbour.  
He was thinking of visiting Hot Pie at the Inn of the Kneeling Man but it would only delay his voyage and he was suddenly raring to reach Castle Black at the earliest possible. His plan was to ride to White Harbour and take a ship to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. All within a fortnight.  
Gendry was not sure when decided to start on this journey but one day he had woken up and knew it was what he had to do. There was not much left to do at the Crossroads Inn and the whispers of the everlasting threat to Westeros lurking beyond the wall were growing louder with every passing day.  
He never ceased to remember the words Lord Beric Dondarrion had told him. If he would fight for Westeros, he would be able to see Arya again. At least it was what Gendry had been telling himself ever since then. Furthermore Jon Snow was a connection to Arya. Jon Snow, the bastard brother dearest to her. Whatever Gendry might find at Castle Black, it would give him more answers than sojourning in the Riverlands. 

Gendry had been travelling for a day and a half when he first noticed the howling of wolves. He had just passed the Trident and the howling seemed so loud and near he was convinced he would not make it through the night. However he was still alive the next morning when the ghostly fog was rising from the woods and the howling had disappeared.  
The howling returned every night and by the time he had passed Moat Cailin he could not shake the feeling that the wolves were somehow accompanying him. Possibly even guarding him.

He reached White Harbour after an eight days ride. It was the first time Gendry was so far to the north. A freezing rain was pouring down on White Harbour and the icy wind was lashing at him mercilessly. The cold was creeping inside his clothes making him shudder, yet he felt excited. The North and the cold was what Arya called home.  
He sold his mount and purchased a warmer cloak with the few coppers he could spare before he went to the inner harbour to find the next ship to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.  
“Takin' the black, lad?“, a dock worker grinned at him revealing his rotten teeth. “Wonder what'ya fucked up to meet that fortune.“  
Gendry decided to ignore the man and instead boarded the small ship, staring into the stormy grey sea. Grey was the water. Grey was the sky. Grey was the city. Grey like her eyes. He took a deep breath of the salty air and waited aloft as the rain was soaking him.

If White Harbour was cold, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea was the freezing hell. Still Gendry was glad they had finally reached land. A few hours after the ship had left White Harbour, Gendry realized that the angry waves dashing against the ship were making him seasick. After four days of travelling by ship he was thankful for solid ground beneath his feet.  
With awe Gendry observed the imposing wall towering the black snow-clad rocks of the castle. Never had he expected an intimidating and overwhelming sight like this.  
He bought the first horse he could find, a black elderly stallion and mounted it. A few more hours and he would finally reach his destination.

At evenfall Gendry was relieved to finally spot Castle Black. He was tired and freezing and had begun to feel frightened by the unfamiliar surroundings.  
When he approached the entry gate he could hear a horn blowing. He had been spotted, as well. 

A tall dark-haired figure, all dressed in black furs was standing atop the castle's wall looking down at Gendry. From the familiarity of the men's face Gendry immediately knew who he was facing. Gendry descended from his horse.  
“Lord Commander“, he shouted. “My name is Gendry Waters. I need to speak with you.“  
The other man perked his eyebrows up at Gendry's declaration. “It's a long way for a bastard of the Crownlands.“  
“It is indeed. I am weary and I am cold and I need to speak with you.“  
Jon Snow turned around and nodded to someone Gendry could not see. After a few moments the gate opened and he entered Castle Black.  
“So, Gendry Waters“, the Lord Commander said walking down the stairs to the yard were Gendry was waiting. He was dressed in black furs from head to toe. Dark hair and eyes as dark they too seemed black. He was the epitome of a crow. “You've piqued my curiosity. What is it you want to talk about? Or would you rather warm up inside the hall beside a fire and some food?“  
“That would be nice, m'lord“  
“M'lord?“ Jon Snow gave out a laugh and Gendry could not help but grin as well.

 

Finally inside the hall Gendry was gulping down his bowl of hot stew as the Lord Commander was eyeing him intently and the other crows in the hall were shooting curious glances at the two men. When Gendry finished he cleared his throat, finally aware of himself. He gave thanks for the food and began to explain his visit.  
“I've come here to fight with you, m'lord. I was once a member of the Brotherhood without Banners, but the Brotherhood and I have long since parted. I am aware of the threat beyond the wall. Yoren had first told us when we left King's Landing“, Gendry saw Jon's confused expression at the reference of Yoren's name. “I was once on my way to the wall with Yoren. Before the Gold Cloaks captured us and killed him.“  
“So do you intend to take the black then?“, Jon asked.  
“No, I don't intend to do so. But I came here to help though. I'm a smith, m'lord. I might be of use.“  
“Seriously, stop calling me that.“  
Gendry chuckled. “You resemble her a lot, do you know that?“ Jon frowned in confusion. “You have her face and she used to reprimand me when I called her 'm'lady'.“  
“Who are you talking about?“, Jon snapped at him.  
“Arya. Your sister.“  
Jon's lips formed into a snarl that reminded Gendry of the white direwolf he had seen at Jon's side earlier. “Who are you to her? What do you know about her? Where is she? Tell me!“  
Gendry cautiously raised his hands in surrender. “I don't know where she is. I am... I was a friend of hers.“ He took a moment to think and decided he could trust Jon entirely. Arya would want him to trust her brother. And so he found himself telling Jon everything. He told him about their escape from King's Landing, how he got to know Arya, who was disguisied as a boy back then, about Harrenhall, about the Brotherhood and about the day Arya left them. Jon had listened to his explanation silently, nodding every now and then.  
“So you don't know where she is now?“, Jon finally asked.  
Gendry shook his head. “There was mention of Bolton's bastard marrying Arya Stark.“  
“That wasn't Arya.“  
“I know“, Gendry muttered.  
Jon was staring at his hands and remained silent for a long while. “Do you know how to forge dragonglass?“, he eventually asked Gendry.  
“Dragonglass? You meen obsidian?“ Jon nodded. “I... I've never worked with dragonglass. But I might give it a try.“  
Jon nodded. “Stannis Baratheon, or King Stannis how he prefers to be referred to, will want to see you.“  
“My... Uncle is still here?“  
Jon's eyes widened in surprise. “You mean... You are?“  
Gendry nodded. “King Robert was my father, yes.“  
“Does he know?“  
Gendry shrugged and Jon whistled.  
“On the morrow I shall show you our forge. For now let's find you a place to rest.“

 

***

The next morning Jon together with Samwell Tarly, the Night Watch's Maester, had shown Gendry Castle Black's forge and the dragonglass they were possessing. Tarly had told him everything he and Jon had found out concerning the dragonglass and Gendry immediately began working on the material. He had yet to find out how the dragonglass needed to be handled with, what temperature it needed to be sculpted at and how much strength he had to use for it.  
Tarly had already left the forge but Jon had stayed to talk with Gendry. He wanted to hear everything the smith knew about Arya. They were exchanging stories about the girl and were laughing at the memories. The good one's at least.

Suddenly Gendry saw a red-haired woman dressed entirely in red standing at the forge's entrance. She was smirking at him. Gendry realized she had to be a Red Priestess.  
Jon nodded to her with a bitter expression. “Melisandre“, then he looked at Gendry. “Lord Baratheon wants to see you.“  
Gendry nodded his agreement.  
“Priestess, you can tell the Lord Baratheon Ser Gendry will come to meet him soon. Just give us a moment.“  
Melisandre smiled at him. Her smile seemed almost wicked. “ _King_ Stannis, Lord Snow.“  
“Tell that the Dragon Queen in King's Landing.“  
Gendry stifled a laugh and the Red Priestess left.

“Gendry“, Jon initiated. “Why did you truly come here?“  
Gendry considered a moment before he replied. “I came because of Arya. To her you were always the dearest brother. And well, I've got the faint hope that she will return to you one day. Anyways, Arya would want me to take care of you. To fight with you, at least.“  
Jon nodded and smiled weakly. “I see“, he turned around and attempted to leave. “Don't keep your uncle waiting too long then.“

It turned out Lord Baratheon would not wait any longer. He entered the forge before Gendry had prepared to seek his uncle out. When Stannis Baratheon caught sight of Gendry for the first time he looked as if he was seeing a ghost.  
“You... Are you his?“  
Gendry nodded. “King Robert was my father, yes. Although I've never come to know him, m'lord. _Your Grace_ , I mean.“  
Lord Baratheon snorted in disdain. “I might be the true heir of Robert Baratheon to the Iron Throne, yes, but the Targaryens have once again claimed this title now. I should be enraged. Yet there are other matters worrying me,“ he gazed at Gendry for a long moment before he continued. “Tell me, boy. Have you come to fight with us?“  
“Yes, m'lord“, Gendry was still not sure how he was ought to address the man.  
Lord Baratheon nodded and left, leaving a confused Gendry behind. The Red Priestess who had accompanied his uncle, gave Gendry another smirk before she left as well.

***

A month later Gendry had worked up the majority of the dragonglass into sharp weapons such as swords and spears. Apparently the only way to kill a white walker was with dragonglass. In this fight Gendry would not be able to use his recently forged warhammer. Gendry felt slightly disappointed since he felt more comfortable with a hammer in his hand instead of a blade, but he could not forge a hammer of dragonglass. They had not enough of the material to spare anyway.  
Jon had offered the smith to practise with him. Gendry had taken a liking to the Lord Commander. He reminded him a lot of Arya and the two got on well with one another. In fact they had already begun to form a friendship. Hence when Gendry was not working in the forge, he was either practicing with Jon or sharing stories with him.

The two of them were practicing in the yard as usual when Castle Black's horns were blown in alarm.  
“ _Dragons!_ “  
They heard men's frightened sceams.  
“What is that supposed to mean?“, Jon muttered before he rushed to the entrance gate. Gendry followed him.

In front of Castle Black three tremendous looking dragons landed. A creamy white one, with gold markings, a green one, with bronze markings, and the biggest, a black one with red markings. It was the first time Gendry saw a dragon and he did not know whether he was scared to death or utterly impressed.  
From the two smaller dragons a silver-haired woman and a silver-haired man descended. They were the Dragon Queen Daenerys Targaryen and her nephew Aegon.  
The two Targaryen approached Jon and Gendry. It was also the first time Gendry saw a Targaryen. Queen Daenerys was dressed in white furs. Her silver locks were reaching down elegantly to her waist and her almond-shaped eyes were a shade of violet. As were her nephew's. Gendry had expected them to look similar terrifying to their dragons but Daenerys was short and slender, her nephew lean. Nevertheless both the queen and her nephew looked formidable.  
“Kneel to your queen“, Aegon Targaryen exclaimed.  
As an awe-struck Gendry and Jon attempted to bend their knee, Daenerys cut them off.  
“I, Daenerys Stormborn, first of her name, Mother of Dragons, and Queen to the seven Kingdoms have come to claim the third head of the dragon.“  
Jon and Gendry exchanged a puzzled look.  
“I have come to demand you, Jon Snow. Or shall I rather say Jon Targaryen?“  
Jon stared at the queen in bewilderment. “Targaryen?“  
The queen nodded. “You are Jon Targaryen, first of his name and the third head of the dragon.“  
“I am Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell. Son to Eddard Stark.“  
The queen smiled at him sympathetically. “You are not. You are a Stark, but not on your father's side. You are son to Lyanna Stark and my brother Rhaegar Targaryen. Your mother gave birth to you inside the Tower of Joy, when my brother had already been killed by the Usurper's hand“, Gendry winced at the reference. “Your mother died in childbed after her brother Eddard Stark, your _uncle_ , had given her the promise to take care of you.“  
Jon's jaw dropped, his lower lip was trembling. “This can't be true.“  
Daenerys smiled again and nodded. “It is. You are my brother's son. My nephew. And this“, she pointed to Aegon “is your half-brother.“ Aegon folded his arms and looked away. He did not appear half as enthusiastic as his aunt. Daenerys did not pay attention to him but kept eyeing Jon eagerly. She tilted her head a little to the side as if she was expecting him to comprehend and adjust to the meaning of her words. “Amusingly I am your aunt and yet I am younger than both of you,“ she chuckled before her face turned serious again. “I know of the Usurper's blood hiding in here“, Gendry gasped and looked around nervously. “But I have not come for us to fight each other. After all in my absence a Lannister is sitting on the Iron Throne. A Lannister. A member of the family the Targaryen are ought to hate just as much as the Usurper. But I have come to trust the Lord Hand, Tyrion Lannister, deeply. With war comes curious change. And again war has brought me here. I have come to fight against Westeros' biggest danger – _the others_. I have brought my dragons to melt them down.“ She took another step towards Jon giving him another of her warm smiles. “But afterwards I demand you to come to court. Where you belong.“  
Jon shook his head, but not in disobedience. The man was utterly shocked.  
“Your Grace,“ Gendry spoke with a stammer. “The Lord Commander might need some time to fathom what you have spoken of.“  
Queen Daenerys then turned her face to him as if she had registered him only then. “And who would you be, Ser?“  
He looked away intimidated by the queen's scrutiny. “I am Ser Gendry of the Hollow Hill, your Grace.“  
The Queen narrowed her eyes for a second then nodded gracefully. “We have formed an army of 30.000 men to our support. They are heading this way but they will not reach here before a fortnight. Aegon and I went ahead to let the Night's Watch know of their arrival.“  
Jon snapped out of his trance alarmed by her words. “Your Grace, we have not enough room for such an army, let alone supplies of food or weapons.“  
“The men left with enough provisions and I am sure they have gathered more on their way. As for weapons each of the man is armed. Although they will be cold they need to set up a camp next to Castle Black.“  
“Steel is of no use against the white walkers. Only dragonglass is able to slay them, your Grace,“ Gendry explained.  
The queen shot a confused look at Prince Aegon. “Dragonglass?“  
Aegon nodded. “Frozen fire. It's obsidian. There's much of it in Asshai. Also on Dragonstone,“ he then faced Jon for the first time. “Do you have men capable to work with dragonglass?“  
“Yes“, Jon said looking at Gendry. “Gendry has been forging weapons out of dragonglass for the last month.“  
“You have _one_ smith at command?“, Aegon huffed irritated. “How is one man to forge weapons for an army of 30.000? They'll freeze to death before the others have a chance to slaughter us.“  
“Aegon“, Daenerys snapped at the prince. He grimaced but stopped arguing. “Fair enough,“ Daenerys continued. “Aegon and I will go find the army and let them know of our need for smiths. They shall bring every smith they encounter. Ser Gendry, when the men arrive you will immediately begin to teach them how to work with the dragonglass. The men shall settle at Castle Black and wherever there is a smithy nearby. Aegon and I will fly to Dragonstone to provide more dragonglass. I will instruct ships to deliver the supplies instantly. We all have to work together. Even the people beyond the wall. We have no other choice if we want Westeros to remain.“  
Although stunned Jon and Gendry nodded their agreement. Aegon too seemed to approve. Daenerys once again smiled at Jon but now bestowed Gendry with a smile as well. “Good. Let us all rest then. On the morrow we shall debate our actions further.“

 

On the evening Jon would not talk to anybody. Too much was happening and the man was overwhelmed with the revelation of his true parentage. Gendry understood. He once had faced a similar realization. Fortunately the queen did not bother Jon more but let him be for the time being. Gendry wondered how Jon would going to react to the queen's demands. The dragons and the men were a great help. Alone they probably would have never stood a chance against the others.

Gendry was sitting on his bed in the forge balancing a light, thin sword on his lap. He had forged it only recently after Arya's sword Needle. He did so to remember her. He would never forget her anyway, but he had wanted something to hold on to when he was thinking of her. He wondered if she was well. He wondered how she would have changed, both in soul and appearance. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He might as well die in the battle with the others.  
Then he looked up and saw the Red Priestess standing in his forge. Startled Gendry jumped at her sight and cursed under his breath.  
“King Stannis wishes to speak with you,“ Gendry found it both irritating and amusing, that the priestess continued to call him 'King'. “Please follow me.“ And he did.

Stannis was sitting at a desk, a piece of paper in front of him. He was alone with his uncle. Melisandre had remained outside.  
“Are you able to read, Ser Gendry?“  
Gendry shook his head in embarrassment. “No, m'lord.“  
“It matters not. You shall learn it,“ Stannis asked Gendry to sit on a chair opposite to him. When Gendry sat down Stannis continued. “I had a long talk with Queen Daenerys earlier. Fate has a funny way indeed. Once hated enemies, now united for the sake of this land. A battle where kings and bastards fight side by side. I told her of your blood. She harbours no grudge against you, though. As a matter of fact, you are a great help for the war to come. It is because of your skill, we have a fair chance to win.“ Gendry felt like protesting. It was not because of him. He was only helping with the weapons. Everybody was risking his life against the others. And in the end the greatest weapon where the queen's dragons. He decided to remain silent.  
Stannis sighed and it took him a long while before he began to speak again. “The Baratheon line is fading. As to that I am not without guilt. My daughter might be holding Dragonstone together with my wife and the boy is alive as well. But I might not live to see the summer. And as I am facing my end I want to do one thing I shall not regret. In my life I have done things I dread to admit. But admit it or not, the memories are hunting me. I remember the shrieks of the boy I almost accomplished to sacrifice for my selfish motives. Or the memory of him... I see my brother's image in my dreams. He is with me when I go to sleep. He is with me when I am awake. I can hear his laughter. I still can see the peach he was holding. I remember his mockery. And all I can think of is how much I used to love him. The guilt hasn't left me and it never will. I've done things that condemned me to burn in the seven hells. But I can do one last right thing“, Stannis finally turned his face to look at Gendry. “And it is making you my heir.“  
Gendry was startled. “M'lord?“  
“You seem a good lad. Or rather a good man. You might have his looks, his strength and his willpower, but you are everything he was never able to be. Nor Renly, nor me. Please, Ser Gendry. Accept my offer. Let me legitimize you. You shall be the new Lord Baratheon of Storm's End.“  
Gendry's jaw dropped. Stannis Baratheon was practically begging him to let him legitimize him. But he was merely a bastard. How could he possibly become a lord? He remembered Beric Dondarrion's words. He remembered the things Thoros of Myr had said. And suddenly to him the words looked like a prophecy. He remembered. He would be worthy of the lady. But then he would accept the offer for selfish reasons. Gendry was torn. He was scared. He could never be a lord. Not the baseborn bastard of Flea Bottom that he was. He remembered Jon's shock from earlier and he almost laughed at the irony. Then he looked at Stannis. His uncle. A broken man, seeking for atonement. Gendry felt pity. And then he knew he would accept.  
When Gendry nodded he saw tears forming inside Stannis' eyes but they never escaped.  
“So be it“, Stannis smiled faintly. “Lord Gendry Baratheon, heir to Storm's End.“

Gendry felt dizzy. It would take a while to get used to the fact that he was a lord now. A bastard lord, but a lord. Lord Gendry Baratheon. No, that sounded just plain awful.  
“You know, Lord Gendry“, he heard the Priestess speak as he had exited his uncle's quarters. “You could still become a king. You are now the truthful heir to the Iron Throne.“  
“Stop it, Priestess“, he hissed at her. “I will not listen to your talk. And you should not bother him anymore. Let him find his peace.“  
Melisandre smirked again. A twinkle in her ruby eyes. “Yes, finding peace he will.“  
He frowned and left.

 

***

When Gendry found Jon the next morning he knew the man had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen. But there was no time left to dwell. Everybody was preparing for the final battle.  
As Daenerys had promised she and Aegon left to find the army and then proceed to gather more dragonglass. Gendry resumed his work at the forge, men were sent to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and other villages to find blacksmiths and Jon left with men to negotiate with the wildlings. After all they all were facing the same danger. 

It took them five months until the army was finally ready. The encounters with wights and white walkers had increased immensely. More and more wildling villages fell prey to attacks. Despair and fear had grown among the people beyond the wall. Everybody was feeling anxious and restless. They knew the time for retaliation had come. The dragons had found the hideout of the others and every man who was fit for action was equipped with a blade of dragonglass.  
The army passed through the hole inside the wall. They marched north for days until the dragons who had went on ahead, returned to indicate the fight would then begin. They were the heralds of death.  
There was no turning back.  
It was a slaughter. The vile creatures were hacking and slaying like mad, whereas the dragons were burning them from above. The dragonglass was killing the undead, yet the undead were reaping through the living like a sickle through the grain.  
Furiously Gendry was slashing and screaming at the deadly creatures clutching to image of Arya in his mind.  
The battle lasted for hours. A cacophony of clashing steel, bloodspilling, and death cries.  
The appalling dragon's scream proclaimed the battle's end.  
And they were standing in a sea of blood and death. 

Exhausted Gendry fell to his knees and steadied himself with his palms. His body was shaking and he was sobbing. He was scared to look up, scared to see what had remained.  
After what felt for an eternity he felt a hand on his shoulder. Through the corner of his eye he saw Jon standing next to him. Both relieved and devastated.  
“We have won, Gendry. It is over.“  
“Yes“, he cried. “Yes. Over.“  
“The dragons shall burn the bodies“, he heard Daenerys shout. “The dead are not to arise again. Bid farewell to whomever you feel you're indebted to. _Now!_ “  
Gendry crawled up from the ground. On unsteady legs he advanced to the body he knew was lying some paces in front of him. He stopped to look at the body of his uncle. A slash had opened up his chest and blue eyes were staring blankly into nothing.  
“Farewell“, Gendry whispered before the body began to burn.  
He felt sorry Stannis Baratheon had to die so far away from his home and his body had to burn in the wilderness without any ceremony. Yet he felt good for he had been able to accomplish the man's last wish.  
And as the body was burning in the flames he could not think of any other thing than what has once been spoken inside the Hollow Hill. He had fought for Westeros and he has become worthy of her.  
He had become the bastard Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any canon mistakes. ASOIAF is just so vast!
> 
> \- About Jon. After the end of ADWD I think he might be killed, but resurrected. Afterwards I don't believe he will stay with the Night's Watch, since he's freed from his oath (since he died). I kinda ignored it here. Because I thought, this story isn't actually about Jon so I just skipped that part... Hope you don't mind! Oh and I actually believe the R+L=J theory. It's just too obvious... I might be wrong though! There are also hints in the show (season 5) and in the first chapter of Book 1 Eddard thinks of the promise inside the crypts. It was actually there where I thought "OH! L must be Js MOM!" so err, yeah. that's why I implied this. There won't be any Jon and Dany marriage though. 
> 
> \- And as for Stannis. I hope you guys don't think he fell out of character here. In my imagination after all those years in the North with Melisandre nagging around he has become a weary man full of remorse. He never got over Renly's death and since Storm's End has no actual heir... So he talked to Dany and she too advised him to legitimize Gendry. It's still a little rushed but - this is fanfiction :) and GRRM will surely provide us with a totally different outcome to the story. This is the future I imagine for Westeros and not what I expect.  
> I'd like to hear your thoughts!  
> 


	3. The Assassin of the Forest

“Who are you?“, the kindly man asked her.  
“I am no one,“ the girl replied with a determined voice.  
“Liar. Who are you?“  
She was no one. She had been no one for the last five years. No. That was a lie. She had worn many names and faces. She had been Cat of the Canals, Beth and Mercy. And in her sleep she was a wolf. At night she remembered. In her dreams she was a girl from a land across the sea. A girl who remembered fear, hate, loss, agony. Yet she was no one.  
“I am no one,“ she said again.  
The kindly man shook his head. “No, you are not. You are Arya Stark. You are but a girl pretending to be no one. The guild of the Faceless Men has no place for you.“  
“Are you abandoning me? What's it I've done to disappoint you?“, she asked with distraught.  
“You did no such thing. I am sending you back where you belong.“  
“It is here where I belong,“ she demanded.  
“You are afraid, child. Yet you must leave this city and travel back. Your fate is no longer here. It is awaiting you in your homeland. Valar morghulis.“  
“Valar dohaeris,“ she said and turned around. 

 

The girl left the House of Black and White through the large wooden door. She walked down the stone stairs slowly and torpidly. “I am no one. I am no one“, she muttered to herself. She felt it was not the truth. She walked along the canals until she found a place to sit down. It had started to rain and she sat watching the drops coalesce with the black water of the canal.  
She sat there indefferent of the pouring rain. Only her mind was working. “Arya Stark,“ she whispered. “I am Arya Stark.“  
The memories were faint. She saw no pictures in her mind but she remembered the smell. The smell of grass. The smell of earth. The smell of blood. The smell of burning corpses. She remembered distant feelings. She remembered pain, warmth, loss, love. Then a face appeared. The warm kind smile of a man with grey eyes. Another face. Auburn hair, blue eyes. A boy, dark hair, grey eyes. Wolves. Brothers. A sister. A castle. The place she once called home. Fear. Fear of death. Skies of red and the screech of crows. “Stark,“ she said with surprise. “Father. Mother. Winterfell. Arya Stark of Winterfell.“  
The memories came flooding. She remembered Winterfell. Her siblings. Her brother Jon. She remembered her father's death. She remembered when her mother and her brother died. She remembered her fleeing. And also a black-haired boy with blue eyes. Her friend.  
“Nymeria“, she said smiling to herself. “You helped me, didn't you? You saw to it, that I'd not forget.“  
The kindly man knew. The girl had never truly forgotten who she was. She was merely surpressing her memories. They never had left her. She was not no one. She was Arya Stark.  
Then she remembered Needle and the place where she was hiding her sword. With a new excitement Arya ran to the place and digged her sword up. She pressed Needle firmly to her chest and felt tears streaming down her cheeks.  
Arya was scared of the land to the west, for she knew of the everlasting hazard of death. Nevertheless she felt a restlessness inside of her. She felt it was time to go home. 

 

Her clothes were soaked and dirty and she had no money. At first she considered to beg for some money but opposed the idea quickly. She put on her hood and got lost within the narrow alleys of Braavos. When she thought she had stolen enough coins, she purchased a new hood, a tunic, leatherbreeches, a belt for Needle and boots. She had enough money left for a meal and the passage to Westeros.  
When she was ready she headed to Ragman's Harbor. Although it was raining the harbour was busy. Seamen were preparing their ships, at their stalls vendors were calling for customers and whores were waiting for suitors.  
Arya liked Braavos enough. Despite the frequent rain it was a warm and lively city. Dirty and pulsating. The people were unbiased and women were able to speak their mind. During her stay in Braavos she had come to understand why the cities of Essos were called free. She liked being Cat of the Canals and she liked learning the city's secrets. Nevertheless she had never been truly free there. As a mummer, as a beggar and as an assassin she could have never been herself. She remembered the wolf calling for her. She was a wolf. So perhaps she could be herself again in Westeros. Hypocritical, despicable, atrocious Westeros. Home.

 

Arya bit off the last piece of her apple and tossed the leftovers away. When she spotted a foreign looking ship preparing to leave, she walked over to it.  
“You leaving for Westeros?“, she asked the grim looking stout man who was loading the ship.  
The man stopped working to turn around and inspect her. He spat out before he replied. “Aye. Ye want to come with us, girl? I doubt ye have the coin.“  
Arya grabbed inside the pocket of her hood and fetched some silvers. “Will that be enough?“  
The man raised his brows and grinned. “Ye have more where that came from?“  
“Try to have a look and you'll end up with a slit throat. Will you take me to Westeros or not?“  
The man guffawed. The corners of his mouth were wet with spittle and he stank of sweat and ale. “Ye've guts, haven't ye? Hop on. We're leaving for Saltpans shortly.“  
Arya nodded, payed and went aboard. _Saltpans_ , she thought smiling to herself. She would go to the same place from where she once left it all behind. 

 

***

 

_She was rushing inside a forest. The smell of resin, grass and earth filled her nose. Hastily she was running along the trees and through the underbrush. She was excited. Her human would return. She had to tell her pack. She ascended a hill and atop she howled to the moon. A long, loud and ear-splitting howl. With pride she announced her master's return._

 

_Then there was a boy. He was standing in front of a fire, a hammer in his hand. She was a girl again, no more the wolf. She was watching him work. As he was hitting the steel, she felt comfortable and familiar. He was her friend. She took a few steps towards the boy and tried to embrace him. He turned around to face her before she managed to put her arms around his shape. He smiled and she saw his blue eyes. Blue eyes that seemed so warm. Eyes that were piercing inside her soul._

 

***

 

Arya awoke with a gasp. It took a while before her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her surroundings. She blinked a few times until she realized she was lying in her cabin. She needed to get a breath of fresh air. Arya got up from her narrow bed and searched for her hood and the small dagger she was carrying with her constantly.  
When she went on deck Arya thanked the gods she was alone. It was already past the hour of ghosts and on the brink of dawn. She leant against the railing and looked into the black night sky studded with stars.  
Arya had dreamt of being Nymeria again. Knowing Nymeria was so excited about her return filled her with joy. She wondered if she would be able to find the wolf and become her companion again after all those years. She missed Nymeria dearly.  
However, the second dream had been different. It was a memory. The memory of someone she knew. A friend. _Gendry_ , she remembered. The boy's name was Gendry. Gendry, the blacksmith-apprentice. The boy who had once started with her on a journey of death. The boy who she came to rely on so much. The boy who had abandoned her. Stupid, stubborn Gendry.  
Arya's fingers tightened around the railing until her knuckles grew white. The memory of the boy stirred up several emotions inside of her. She remembered the Brotherhood without Banners and the day she had left them and went away with The Hound. On that day she had asked the boy to be her family. To come with her to Riverrun and be a smith for her brother. The boy had mocked her and chose to get knighted instead. How furious and devastated she had been that day. She felt Gendry had betrayed her. The Brotherhood had also planned to ransom her and with Gendry forsaking her she had had no reason to stay. So she left them all behind. And then her brother died. In the end she thought, it might have been better for Gendry to stay with the Brotherhood without Banners. Being one of her brother's man might have gotten him killed as well.  
Arya wondered if Gendry was alive. She asked herself whether he remembered her or if he had forgotten her long since. Her dream that night made the memory of him so vivid. She admitted to herself that she missed him too. At least she wanted to see him or know if he was well. Saltpans was not far from the Hollow Hill. Perhaps she would look for him.  
She mused there for a while, alone but for the stars above her and the sea beneath her, until she felt the tiredness creeping up again. She had a few hours left before the sun would rise fully. One more night and Arya would be in Westeros again.

 

***

 

The ship arrived at Saltpans late in the afternoon. After five years it felt odd for Arya to speak in the Common Tongue again and she repeatedly caught herself initiating a sentence in Braavosi. In Braavos there had only been a few people capable of speaking the Common Tongue and after a few months she had adapted to the Braavosi language and customs completely. But what felt even more weird to her was the fact that she had to permanently wear her own face again.  
When Arya took her first steps on Westerosi ground she felt nervous and watched. She worried someone would recognize her as Arya Stark. Soon she realized that nobody in the town actually payed any attention to her. Being no one in a strange town made Arya feel at ease again and so she went looking for a mount to buy.  
Saltpans was a small town in the Riverlands of little importance. Arya remembered the town being burned and plundered when she left it five years ago. By now it had been rebuilt and the people seemed different, almost cheerful and serene. There was no fear and dread in their faces and Arya wondered if it meant that Westeros was finally at peace. In Braavos she had heard the news of the Dragon Queen conquering the Iron Throne a few years ago and thus bringing the War of the Five Kings to an end. Aside from that she had never concerned herself with Westerosi politics further. Hence she was surprised with the lack of despair in the once ruined town.  
In spite of everything it took her some time to actually find a horse to buy. Moreover the only man willing to trade one of his horses demanded no reasonable price. Arya was in no mood to fight and thus accepted the extortionate price. Who was she to complain with her stolen money anyway.

 

As she left Saltpans and rode westwards she realized she was reluctant to seek the Brotherhood. They had not parted on good terms and she had not forgotten their plan to ransom her to her brother. They might even try to do so again if they recognized her. Still she was curious to hear about Gendry.  
An inn not far from the Hollow Hill came into Arya's mind. The Crossroads Inn it was called. She decided she would go there to spend the night. Perhaps she could gather information about the Brotherhood and Gendry from there. Enthralled by the idea she galloped along the river.

 

A few hours later Arya was happy to arrive at the inn by the crossroads. It was near evenfall and Arya was exhausted from travelling for days. She had not eaten a decent meal since Braavos and by now she was hungry and thirsty.  
After leading her horse to the stables Arya finally entered the inn. Inside she found a group of children and two girls around Arya's age looking at her curiously.  
“Good evening“, the older girl greeted her.  
“Good evening,“ Arya replied. “I'd like to stay for the night.“  
“You're welcome to stay of course,“ the girl said smilingly. “Are you hungry, too? We have venison stew and fresh pie.“  
Arya nodded her head, surprised by the hospitality. “Stew would be great. And some ale perhaps.“  
Her stomach started to growl and she sat at a table with a sheepish smile. Lost in thought Arya drummed her fingers on the table. She had been in this very inn with The Hound, she remembered. It was here where she killed Polliver and the Tickler and where The Hound was mortally wounded. She did not remember the girls and the children though. When she saw the girl returning with the ale Arya worried her lip and wondered how she should start her inquiry.  
“I'm sorry. Do you perhaps have a moment to spare?“, she asked politely.  
The girl looked baffled for a moment but then nodded.  
As far as Arya remembered the Brotherhood without Banners was a group of outlaws and was searched by the Mountain's men. It did not seem as a good idea to ask about them straightforwardly.  
“Do you perhaps know a boy called Gendry? He was a blacksmith.“  
The girl frowned. “Gendry? You mean the... Wait. Are you not from here?“  
Arya shook her head. “I am, but I've spent the past five years in Essos. Gendry was a friend of mine before I left.“  
“Seven hells,“ she said under her breath and sat down opposite to Arya. “Willow,“ she called out to the younger girl. “You take care of the guests.“ Then she turned to Arya again. “Don't tell me you are Arya Stark?“  
“What?“, Arya replied startled. “I'm not,“ she said too harsh and her face betrayed her equally.  
“You are!“, the girl exclaimed and covered her mouth with her hand.  
“Who are you?“, Arya hissed at her with irritation.  
“My name's Jeyne Heddle, m'lady. Me and my sister Willow own this place. Gendry, I mean Lord Baratheon, lived with us for some years to work at the smithy.“ Arya's mouth fell agape at the mention of 'Lord Baratheon'. “He never stopped talking about you, that's why I know of you. He was so devastated when you left. After the massacre in Walder Frey's hall they proclaimed you dead but Gendry never believed it. He would always wait for you to return.“  
Arya stared at Jeyne dumbfounded. “Lord? Baratheon?“  
“Yes,“ Jeyne nodded with excitement. “Lord Gendry is the bastard son of the late King Robert. Before his uncle Stannis Baratheon died in the battle against the others he legitimized Gendry. The queen granted him Storm's End after the battle. He's been living there for three years now. Haven't you heard of the battle beyond the wall?“  
Arya was speechless. It suddenly made sense. The black hair, the blue eyes, the Gold Cloaks searching for him. Arya nodded slowly. She had heard of this battle, albeit she knew no details.  
“Three years ago Gendry went to the wall. There he forged the dragonglass blades. He fought together with the queen and the princes. They brought peace to Westeros.“  
“Princes?“, Arya asked. She had heard of Prince Aegon, but she did not knew of another prince.  
“By the seven, m'lady. What where you doing in Essos? Prince Aegon and Prince Jon. Your cousin!“  
“Cousin?“  
Jeyne exhaled slowly. “Yes, your cousin Jon Targaryen. Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.“  
“Lyanna? But... Jon's my brother.“ Willow brought the stew to her table but Arya had by then lost her appetite. Arya stared at the table, unable to speak. She remembered the story of her aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen. It made sense as well. Suddenly she thought how stupid it was of her to return to Westeros. Instead of being happy for Jon or Gendry she felt betrayed. With Jon being a prince she felt she had lost the person closest to her. She did not feel joy, she only felt pain and regret. She did not belong here. It took her a few minutes before she spoke again. “Jon's a prince now?“  
“Yes. He lives in King's Landing. Perhaps you should visit there.“  
King's Landing. How could she possibly return to King's Landing? The place where everything had started. Where her father was killed.  
“So you left for Essos. Why did you never tell him, Lady Arya?“, Jeyne shook her head in reproach. “You broke his heart when you left.“  
Arya gave Jeyne a puzzled look. “What?“, she felt the sombre mood being replaced by anger. “What are you talking about? Wasn't he the one to scorn my offer and become a knight? And now he's a lord. The great Lord Baratheon. Broke his heart, my arse“, she snorted. “He's got himself a castle and I'm sure a fine lady to bed and I'm supposed to pity that stupid bull-headed bastard?“  
Jeyne gave her a disappointed look. “He hasn't married anyone.“  
“He may fuck any wench in the Seven Kingdoms, for all I care.“  
Jeyne fell silent. Arya ordered her second ale. She felt she needed a lot that night.  
“Have you visited the Brotherhood yet?“, Jeyne asked her eventually.  
“No, I did not.“  
“Before you leave for King's Landing you should go there, m'lady.“  
“Who told you I'd go to that shit pile of a city? And why would I want to go see those outlaws? And don't call me 'm'lady'.“  
“Because your mother is there.“  
Arya's wrath subsided abruptly. She remembered the dream she had, where Nymeria pulled her mother's body out of the river. “My mother's dead.“  
“Yes,“ Jeyne said without looking into Arya's eyes. “Still she is with the Brotherhood. She's their leader. She's calling herself Lady Stoneheart now.“  
“My mother is dead“, Arya growled and hit the table with her clenched fist.  
“I'm sorry, m'lady“, Jeyne said with a hurt expression. “What I've told you this evening is a lot to comprehend. Yet you should go and see your mother. Perhaps on the morrow.“  
“Perhaps,“ Arya said more to herself than to Jeyne as she finished her second cup of ale. “But first let me have another ale.“

 

Arya had left for her bed light-headed and dizzy from the ale and from the talk with Jeyne. She collapsed into her bed and tried to process what she had been told earlier.  
Her brother was not her brother but a Targaryen, a prince on top of it. He was living in King's Landing, so she could not even flee to the wall to be with him. Winterfell, Jeyne had told her later, was taken over by Bolton's bastard who had married a false Arya Stark. Her little brothers were dead. Killed by Theon, her father's ward, who had grown up with them. Her only sibling now was Sansa, who lived in King's Landing as well. It was too much to handle. Arya began to sob. She tried to suppress the tears forming inside her eyes but she lost the fight against them. She allowed the tears to escape and lay there weeping.  
The only friend she ever felt she had was now a lord and lost to her like everybody else.  
And her presumed dead mother was alive with a slit throat and leader to a band of outlaws. Arya gave into her despair and cried for hours until she fell asleep at last.

 

***

 

The next morning Arya felt like she had not slept at all. She payed her bill, thanked Jeyne and her sister and went for her horse. She was scared of going to the Hollow Hill. Nevertheless she was determined to do so. She wanted to see the thing who claimed to be her mother.  
She rode the forest path leading to the Hollow Hill hesitantly, unconsciously delaying her arrival. The Hollow Hill was not far from the inn and she would arrive soon, as slowly as she attempted to be.  
Suddenly Arya felt a familiar prickle on her skin. She felt the presence of someone nearby. She looked around cautiously but was not able to make out anybody. She gripped her hand around Needle's hilt, slowly drawing the sword from her belt. Then a figure emerged from between the trees. A large, grey wolf sat down a few feet in front of her. Dark, golden eyes were staring back at Arya. The girl let out a shout of delight and jumped from her horse. “Nymeria!“, she cried and raced towards the wolf. Nymeria yelped and licked Arya's face as the girl flang her arms around the wolf. “Nymeria, you came.“ Arya buried her face deep inside the fur, inhaling the direwolve's scent. “I missed you so much.“  
She got up and marveled at the size of the direwolf. She was so happy about the reunion with Nymeria that the fear of meeting Lady Stoneheart almost left her entirely. She suddenly did not feel alone anymore. She had found someone who belonged to her. Her companion. Her friend. She gave Nymeria another tight hug.  
“Will you come with me to see mother?“  
The wolf looked at her and Arya understood her agreement. Arya laughed in excitement. When she turned to climb her horse again, Nymeria nudged her and lowered her head. Arya realized that Nymeria wanted her to ride on her back. She grinned. “I can't leave the poor horse here. We can leave it with the Brotherhood though.“  
Nymeria accepted and they continued.

 

Not much later they arrived at the cave's entrance. Arya left the horse outside but took Nymeria with her.  
She had only walked a few steps into the cave when an arrow landed on the ground just in front of Arya. Nymeria growled, ready to attack.  
“Seven buggering hells“, Arya heard a man's voice. She raised her arm for Nymeria to stay back. A hooded man appeared. Arya recognized him as the archer Anguy. “Isn't that our little Lady?“  
Arya raised her face contemptuously. “I've come to see my mother. Lead me to her.“  
“Lem!“, Anguy shouted over his shoulder. “Come and see this.“  
“What's it?“, Lem said as he joined Anguy. When he recognized Arya his eyes grew wide. “Seven bloody hells! The Stark girl.“  
Arya rolled her eyes. “I'm not here to chatter with you. Bring me to the thing which claims to be my mother.“  
Anguy and Lem exchanged a look before they turned their heads to her again. “Alright“, Anguy nodded. “Follow us. But your dog has to stay here.“  
“She's no dog and she's coming with me,“ Arya spat at them.  
The men wavered at first but then nodded and proceeded deeper into the cave. Arya and Nymeria followed.  
“Where've you been until now, little Lady?“, Lem asked her after a few minutes.  
“That's none of your concern“, Arya was not willing to share her past with the outlaws. She was still feeling anger towards them.  
“Where's Gendry to witness this?“, Anguy said to the other man smirking. “He'd be giddy with excitement now.“  
“I'm sure the honourable lord has other matters to care about,“ her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she grimaced when she imagined him dressed in garments of silk and brocade. She huffed at the thought.  
“What is this? Isn't the lady happy?“, Lem questioned her mockingly.  
“I don't care about that stupid lord. Now shut up already.“  
The men chuckled but went on in silence.

 

After a while they stopped in front of a large tent.  
“Are you ready for this, m'lady?“, Anguy asked her worried. Being called 'm'lady' annoyed Arya. Jeyne too had called her that. However, she felt it was not the time to protest against titles. So Arya shrugged her shoulders and went inside the tent followed by the two men and Nymeria.  
At the other end of the tent a woman was sitting on an armchair. She was wearing a dark cloak wrapped around her shoulders and hiding her frame entirely except for her hands and her face. Her skin was unnaturally white and bloated, white and brittle strands of hair were loosely hanging in front of her scarred face.  
Arya swallowed hard. She recognized her mother's face and yet this was not her mother. Nymeria sniffed, clearly confused.  
Lady Stoneheart placed one hand on her throat. “Who are you?“  
The woman's voice was rasp and croaky. The grace and charm of Catelyn Stark all gone.  
“Those men were able to recognize me, but you can't recognize your daughter?“ Arya chuckled albeit there was no humour in her voice. “I'm Arya Stark.“  
Lady Stoneheart eyed her intently before she spoke again. “My daughter.“  
“So you're the leader of the outlaws now?“  
Stoneheart nodded slowly. “We bring death upon those who deserve to die.“  
“And who are those deserving death?“  
“Freys. Boltons. Lannisters,“ Lady Stoneheart listed slowly.  
“Tell me, mother“, Arya emphasised the last word deliberately. “Have you killed Walder Frey then?“  
“No.“  
Arya let out an irritated laugh. “Five years you're sitting here while that abomination is alive and well inside his castle? Who are you killing then?“, she turned around to the two men behind her. “Who are you lot killing?“  
The men seemed embarassed and reluctant to give her an answer. “Whoever the Lady commands us to kill. Members of those houses.“  
Arya clicked her tongue and crossed her arms at her midsection. “Lady Stoneheart, you are dead and yet you possess no knowledge of the god of death. You are not my mother. You are a pitiful creature. And the brotherhood are no knights but a despicable bunch of fools. I shall leave you now to rot inside your cave.“  
She turned her back on Lady Stoneheart and stomped outside the tent. She needed to leave the place as quickly as possible. Arya felt the bile rising in her throat and she started running towards the cave's exit. The sickness overwhelmed her though and she had to stop. A moment later she was throwing up. She felt tears in her eyes and she cursed her body for the reaction. Panting Arya plumped to the ground and buried her face in her hands.  
“We're sorry you had to see this, girl,“ she heard Lem say.  
“Who did this?“, Arya whispered.  
“Beric Dondarrion traded his life for hers. It is why she became our new leader,“ Anguy explained calmly.  
“Why are you still following her? Why are you obeying her orders? This is madness.“  
The men kept quiet.  
“You know,“ Anguy began some time later. “Gendry had felt like you towards her. He wouldn't allow us to kill Brienne of Tarth and her squire. He stood up against Lady Stoneheart and then he left.“  
Arya stood up from the ground and started walking towards the cave's entrance again, leaving the men behind.  
Finally outside the cave Nymeria circled around Arya. She nudged her a few times and Arya understood the direwolf was trying to comfort her.  
Arya smiled and buried a hand inside Nymeria's fur. “Show me your pack, Nymeria.“  
She hopped onto the direwolf and the two rushed inside the forest.

 

Night had come when Nymeria and Arya arrived deep into the wood. Riding the wolf was simpler than Arya had thought. She had adjusted easily to the wolve's frame and as soon as she was sitting on top, it had felt right. She descended from Nymeria and found herself surrounded by dozens of wolves staring back at her. Due to the darkness she could only see their eyes. Nevertheless Arya did not feel scared, Nymeria assured her that she was safe. It was now her pack as well.  
Arya had had enough of the day. She felt worn out and dead tired. She would not go to an inn, she would rather stay in the forest with Nymeria. Here she was protected, here she was not alone, here she belonged.  
Arya took of her hood and splayed it on the ground before she lay down. Nymeria placed herself beside her. Shortly after she had fallen asleep snuggled up to Nymeria. 

 

***

 

Arya liked living in the forest. She had already spent a fortnight with Nymeria and her pack. During the day she would ride on the wolve's back or she would collect berries, herbs and mushrooms while Nymeria went hunting. She would make a fire and cook for herself. At night she was never cold because Nymeria kept her warm. But it was in the night when her dreams tormented her. She dreamt of blood, of hate and vengeance. She saw her brother being stabbed to death. She saw her mother's throat slit open. Murders ordered by a spiteful man sitting on a chair inside his hall. She saw her brothers being killed. She saw Winterfell being seized. Arya's dreams filled her with hate. As the wrath nurtured her she wished for revenge.  
Before she fell asleep she had started to speak her prayer again. “ _Dunsen, Ser Meryn, Ser Ilyn, Cersei. Valar morghulis._ “  
She did not know the names of all the people responsible for the murders at the wedding. She did not know whether they were Freys, or Boltons or Lannisters. But she wanted her revenge so badly. She would not go on a rampage like Lady Stoneheart had. Still she wanted Walder Frey to be killed by her own hands. And she wanted Winterfell to be free. They had taken lives and she would trade theirs to the Many-Faced God.  
“ _Dunsen, Ser Meryn, Ser Ilyn, Cersei, Lord Frey, Ramsay Bolton. Valar morghulis._ “

 

“When they killed my brother, they killed your brother, too,“ she told Nymeria one day. “I want revenge, Nymeria. Will you come with me?“  
Nymeria would come. She had felt the loss and pain as well. She cared for her human, she gave Arya to understand. And if it was revenge she needed, Nymeria was willing to aid her.  
“Good,“ Arya said. She took a deep breath as she fastened Needle and the dagger to her belt. It had been a long time since Arya had last killed someone with her own face. It was dangerous but she would not let anybody recognize her. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._ She planned to sneak into the castle disguised as a servant when the bridge was down. As an assassin she had also learned to disguise herself without putting on another face. _Swift as a deer._ She would find out where Lord Frey slept at night and then she would strike. _Quiet as a shadow._  
She put on her cloak and climbed on Nymerias back. “Let's go.“

 

The ride to The Twins had taken them two days. On the way Arya had bought clothes fitting to a maid. When Nymeria and she arrived at the Crossing she put on the maid's clothing. She waited until she found the bridge pulled down for a wagon to enter the inner keeps. She followed the wagon looking down to the ground. In her hands she held a bunch of herbs. She had picked them earlier to serve her as an excuse why she had to leave the inner keeps.  
When she arrived at the gate one of the guards spotted her.  
“Who are you, wench?“, he barked.  
“Name's Beth, Ser,“ she still looked down, feigning fear.  
“Where are you going?“  
She showed him the herbs she was holding. “I work at the kitchens, good Ser. They needed me to get those herbs. I need to hurry, else they'll be angry with me.“  
He nodded and let her pass. When she entered the inner keep, she had to supress a smirk. No one suspected the harm a simple girl was able to cause.  
It was hard for Arya to withstand the temptation of running into the hall where the Lord of the Crossing was sitting and stabbing him to death there. She knew she would be killed in the attempt. Hence she had to find out where his chambers where and there await him patiently.  
It did not take long for her to find the way to the Lord's sleeping chambers. The chambers were not guarded by day and were easy to access. She snucked inside the room, cut her skirt to reveal the breeches she was wearing beneath it and hid under the featherbed. While waiting there she prayed to every god she knew, that Lord Frey would not decide to spend his night in another room.  
Hours passed as she was saying her prayer to herself silently again and again. Finally the door to the chamber opened and she saw feet entering the room. They were women's feet. Arya soundlessly cursed to herself.  
The woman was doing something inside the room Arya could not see before she lay down on the bed. Arya did not want to kill her, nevertheless she had to silence her. Slowly she crawled out from beneath the bed and rose to her feet. The woman gasped at her sight and before she let out a scream of panic Arya was pressing her hand to the woman's mouth. Quickly she pressed two fingers beneath the woman's earlobe. The woman's eyes rolled backwards and she passed out. Frey would believe his wife, or whatever that woman was, was sleeping. It was a technique she had learned in Braavos. This way it was possible to put a person out of action without actually killing him. The blackout lasted for several hours. She hoped the woman would not remember her face when she awoke.  
She hid under the bed again. A short while later Frey entered the room at last.  
“Who allowed you to sleep, woman?“, Arya heard the man complain. She waited until the man was undressed and went to his bed. She felt movement above her. Frey was probably mounting his passed out wife.  
Arya came out of her hideout for a second time. Frey was not even facing her. He was oblivious to the assassin behind him as he was groping his sleeping wife.  
Arya drew her dagger. “Is this how you killed my mother?“, she said as she grabbed his head and put her dagger to his throat. She saw the panic in his eyes. His eyeballs were moving frantically around. “I bet she wasn't half as scared as you are. Valar morghulis,“ she said and pushed the blade inside the flesh to cut deep from right to left. Frey's blood sputtered on the bedding and on his wife. He was gargling and grabbing his slit throat, his eyes drawn open in shock.  
“Is this how you killed my brother?“, she said as she drove the knife into the men's chest. “Is it?“  
She stabbed again and again until the body went limp.  
Splatters of blood were sprinkling her face and body. She darted her tongue out and tasted a drop. It filled her mouth with the disgusting metallic taste.  
Arya used the sheet to clean the blade from blood and sheathed the dagger again. She rushed to the window and looked down. She had to leave this way. She had to climb the walls and jump into the river. It was the only way out without being noticed.  
Arya quickly climbed out the window and hopped on the small wall under her. _Swift as a deer._  
She ran along the wall, careful not to be spotted. _Quiet as a shadow._ She climbed and jumped until she reached the stone bridge. Arya looked around one last time to make sure she had not been spotted. When she felt secure she dove into the Green Fork.  
Gasping she reached the surface again. The water was freezing and the current would float her away if she did not start to swim. It took all of her power to reach the riverside. Nymeria pulled Arya out of the river. The wolve's relief was visible. Arya smiled. And the two left for the forests again. _Finally_ , she thought. _Finally, finally, finally._

 

_Dunsen, Ser Meryn, Ser Ilyn, Cersei, Ramsay Bolton. Valar morghulis._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I tried to use a similar story pattern as in the first chapter. 
> 
> I hope you didn't feel my Arya was too moody. I'd love to get more into the depths of her, but I'd never finish the chapter then.  
> 


	4. The Call of the Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and reviews! I hope you'll like this as well.

There were times when Gendry cursed and regretted his decision to accept the title of a lord. He hated the noble life with all its curtsies and hypocrisies. Although admittedly there were a lot of benefits to the life of a lord, there were also enough of obligations. One of these obligations was that he was ought to marry a lady eventually. Gendry would have nothing of it since he was not willing to marry anyone yet. Besides he was still nourishing the hope to meet Arya again someday. 

On that day Queen Daenerys had reminded him again how important a marriage would be in order to strengthen his claim to Storm's End. Gendry however had not payed her reprimands any mind. After all neither her, nor Aegon or Jon had married either. Since Daenerys was barren, Aegon or Jon had to marry to produce an heir for the Iron Throne. But like Gendry, both men were not eager to marry, despite the queen's demands.

Gendry had come to King's Landing to attend the small council of which he had become a member after he was made Lord of Storm's End.  
After the war had ended and Daenerys became queen to the Seven Kingdoms, she had formed a new small council consisting of the persons she trusted the most. Although she had been advised to fill the positions with seven different members after the Andal traditions and the Faith of the Seven, Daenerys had assigned the parts according to her own wishes. “It is me, Jon, Aegon, Varys, Tyrion, Gendry and Samwell. We are seven. It will be enough,“ she had said and the council had been formed.  
Tyrion Lannister had been her advisor and hand for the past three years, he was also the master of coin. The eunuch Varys once again filled the position of the master of whisperers. The grand Maester was Samwell Tarly, who Jon had brought with him from the wall.  
Gendry acted as master of law and also as master of ships, as his uncles once had. Gendry had no idea of either matters and often asked himself why Daenerys had given these positions to him.  
Even so, he tried to further his knowledge as far as he could.  
Ser Davos Seaworth, who was castellan of Storm's End during Gendry's absence, possessed great knowledge of ships and naval operations and was able to teach him on the subjects. It was also Ser Davos, together with Gendry's cousin Lady Shireen Baratheon of Dragonstone, who had taught him to read and to govern the stormlands.  
Gendy cherished them both a lot and he was grateful to have them to his support. 

Thus Gendry spent his time alternately at the Red Keep or at Storm's End. Gendry loved Storm's End but did not mind the time in King's Landing either. He enjoyed Jon's company and when he found time to spare he visited his old master Tobho Mott, who would teach him to work Valyrian Steel. In spite of everything Gendry had kept his passion for blacksmithing.

Gendry stifled a yawn as Tyrion was rambling on something about debts and loans and the Iron Bank of Braavos. As much as he tried to focus, the council always got tiresome at some point.  
“Is there anything else?“, Daenerys asked as they had finally ended their routine discussion of finances and political matters.  
“As a matter of fact there is, your Grace,“ Varys told her. “Words from the Twins arrived today. Lord Walder Frey has been found dead in his bed. Slain in his sleep.“  
Gendry saw Daenerys' eyes filling with rage instantly. “What?“, she spat out. “The knights of the Hollow Hill have been warned to cease their lynchings. I want them all brought here and punished for defying my commands. I won't let this monster Lady Stoneheart threaten the peace in Westeros any longer.“ Daenerys rose and leant towards Gendry, her palms flat on the table. “Lord Gendry, you will tell us where the Hollow Hill is. And that's an order.“  
Gendry swallowed, intimidated by the authority in the queen's voice. Although he despised Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood's actions, he was reluctant to betray the men he once had called brothers.  
“Y-Your Grace...“, he stammered.  
“Your Grace,“ Varys interrupted him. “There is reason to doubt this was the Brotherhood's doing.“  
The queen raised an eyebrow and impatiently drummed her fingers on the table. She hated when someone was playing games with her. “Whose work was it then, Lord Varys?“  
Gendry noticed Varys shooting a glance at Jon before he spoke again. “Lord Frey's wife swears she saw a woman in her bedchambers before she passed out. There are also several reports of a wolf pack sighted in the Riverlands. A wolf as big as a horse leading them and a girl riding said wolf.“  
Gendry gasped and looked to Jon who was obviously having the same thought as him.  
Daenerys fell back into her chair. “Jon?“  
Jon's face grew pale. “I know nothing of it, your Grace. But yes, Arya had set her direwolf Nymeria free at the Trident when she travelled to King's Landing with her Lord father and King Robert. That was seven years ago.“  
“Do you believe the girl is Arya?“, Daenerys asked.  
He nodded absentmindedly. “It's possible.“  
Tyrion let out an amused chuckle. “The warrior queen Nymeria come to life again.“  
Daenerys threw back her head and sighed. “I will have men sent out to arrest her. She must be sentenced for this action. I can't let someone running around killing lords.“  
“No!“, Gendry objected. The protest escaped his mouth before he had been able to think it over.  
“What?“, Daenerys hissed through gritted teeth.  
“Daenerys,“ Jon started. “Please, don't do this.“  
“I am the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. My duty lies in maintainig the peace in this realm. Such is yours, Jon,“ she snarled at him. “She _killed_ a lord in his sleep. Despicable as that man was, I shall not allow such methods as I rule. I will have her punished, be it your kin or not.“  
Gendry slammed his fist on the table. “You will not,“ he yelled at her. “You will not harm her, Queen Daenerys, or gods help me, I don't know what I'll be capable of doing then.“  
Gendry knew he was acting foolish. The queen would have his head for his outburst, but his wrath and his fear of losing Arya entirely were making him reckless.  
Daenerys glared at him. “You dare to oppose me, Lord Gendry?“  
“It is no surprise seeing as he's the Usurper's son,“ Aegon said disdainfully. The prince never missed a chance to show his disrespect for Gendry.  
“Gendry, hold your tongue,“ Jon barked at him. He turned to Daenerys, ire flickering in his dark grey eyes. “Arya is my sister. If not by blood, then by bond. Arya lost her brother and her mother because of Walder Frey. She has been alone for years and she must be full of hate and vengeance. You of all people should understand her the best, Daenerys.“ Daenerys bit the inside of her cheek. “If my word as a prince matters something, then I too beseech you not to harm her. Let me and Gendry go look for this girl. Ghost will be able to track Nymeria down.“  
Aegon huffed and shook his head. Daenerys took a strand of her hair and curled it around her finger. After a few moments she nodded. “You will bring her to court and I promise I will not harm her, _if_ it is Arya. But I need to stop her before she kills someone else. However, Jon, I can't risk you facing a pack of wolves. You will stay at court, but if Gendry wants to go, so be it.“  
Gendry felt amused at the fact, that apparently having him exposed to a wolf pack was of little importance. Nevertheless he was determined to go. The chance of this girl being Arya spured him to leave for the Riverlands at this very instant.  
“I'll do it. Your Grace, I regret what I said earlier. Please forgive me,“ Gendry said sheepishly. Now that he had sobered up, he felt ashamed.  
“What are the words of your house? ' _Ours is the Fury'_ ,“ Daenerys grinned. “I trust you and I am aware that you hold Lady Arya dear. Don't let it happen again though, Lord Gendry. Next time I will not be as gracious.“  
“Thank you, your Grace.“  
“You have to leave for the Riverlands soon. I don't want another murder to happen. You may take men with you.“  
Gendry shook his head no. “I will go alone.“ He thought it was not a good idea to confront Arya with an army of men. If he was to gather her trust, then he had to do it alone.  
“You will need to take Ghost with you,“ Jon advised him. Gendry agreed with the man. Although he was not familiar with the direwolf, he would serve him as protection and as Jon had explained, he would be able to trace his sister Nymeria.  
“Alright,“ Daenerys said clapping her hands together. “That would be all for today.“

***

Gendry was on his way to his chamber inside the Maidenvault, where he was staying during his visits at King's Landing, to prepare for his leave, when he caught sight of Lady Sansa.  
After Jon had come to court, Sansa had left the Vale to join him there. She had been living in King's Landing since then. Sansa had once told Gendry that ironically King's Landing had become the place where she felt secure the most.  
When Sansa spotted Gendry her face lit up and she came towards him. “Is it true?“, Sansa asked him silently.  
Gendry shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know, my Lady. How do you know?“  
“Tyrion told me,“ she said smilingly.  
Gendry laughed. It did not take him entirely by surprise that Varys must have told Tyrion before the council meeting. The two men had formed some kind of bond during the war of the five kings. Sansa also had a close relationship to Tyrion, although their marriage had been annulled years ago. After her return to the Red Keep Tyrion had become one of her most trusted friends.  
“I will leave for the Riverlands as quickly as possible. I am to bring that girl with me. I do hope it is her, but we cannot know for sure.“  
Sansa nodded. “Care to walk with me, Lord Gendry?“, she asked as she offered him her arm. He linked his arm with hers and they headed for the gardens.  
“Pray, tell me, Lord Gendry, what feelings do you harbour for my sister? Do you love her?“, Sansa asked softly.  
Gendry's cheeks flushed. He was not expecting such a forthright question. “I don't know,“ he muttered. “Arya is important to me. We went through a lot together.“  
“I think you are in love with the idea of her. I do believe you treasure her much, but I think you are merely holding on to an embellished memory of her,“ Sansa explained.  
Gendry reflected upon Sansa's statement before he continued. “I love Arya as a brother would do. I feel she's the only family I ever had. We were both children back then. We only thought of surviving. However, I never forgave myself for letting her go. Losing her hurt me a lot. And I swore to myself that I would find and return her. I just wish for her to be back and safe, is all.“  
Sansa gave him a warm smile that made Gendry smile back at her instantly. Sansa truly was a beautiful woman. She was flawless with her long, full auburn hair, her bright blue eyes, her high cheekbones and the long narrow nose that gave her a look of elegance. She always dressed herself in lovely gowns of silk, that accentuated her slim but feminine body. It was hardly surprising that so many lords were courting her, albeit she refused each and everyone. Even so, Gendry had never felt anything else besides sympathy towards the woman.  
“You are a good man, Gendry Baratheon. I hope my sister will be able to see this as well,“ Sansa raised on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I am confident you will find her, my Lord. I shall go to pray for your safe return.“  
With that said, she turned around and left. 

***

Gendry's ride to the Riverlands had been uneventful. Jon's direwolf Ghost was a surprisingly pleasant companion. Although at first Gendry had been cautious of the direwolf he soon came to realize that Ghost was a calm and good-natured animal. During the day Gendry would ride his horse with Ghost never far away, while during the night Ghost would go hunting.  
Jon had given Ghost to understand that he was to travel with Gendry to find Nymeria through some ability Gendry did not really apprehend. Jon had once tried to explain to Gendry the concept of a skinchanger, or warg as Jon had called it, but it had left Gendry all the more confused. Jon had told him that Ghost had some kind of connection to Nymeria that would grow stronger the closer they got to the wolve's sister. Gendry had called into question why they could not sense Arya if the wolves and Jon were all somehow connected to each other. Jon had not been able to provide Gendry with an answer though and thus only the hope remained that this wolf girl was in fact Arya.

 

As Gendry was passing Harrenhal he began to feel uneasy. He associated too many awful memories with this place and it resulted in him having nightmares.  
In the night he was there again. Back at the place full of torture and horror. He dreamt of The Mountain's men raping the women, he saw them being killed. He felt the agony and the hunger again. Then he saw Arya in his dream. She was the little girl of ten again, with short-cropped hair and a dirty face. Some men took her away from him. He was protesting but his shouts were futile. The men were tearing off her clothes and Arya was screaming and fighting them off. They broke her limbs and drew their daggers. At that Gendry woke up in panic. Panting he realized it had only been a dream. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. The dream of Arya upsetted him and he knew that sleep would not return this night. He waited for Ghost to come back and they continued.

The farther north they went the more frantic Ghost became and Gendry knew that they were near.  
At dawn Ghost changed his direction westwards and they soon entered a forest. Ghost whined and Gendry kicked his heels into the horse's side. He had to gallop to keep pace with the white direwolf who was dashing through the woods. Eventually Gendry's mount gave in and he had to slow down losing sight of Ghost.  
“Ghost,“ Gendry shouted into the trees. He heard the wolf respond with a yelp from the distance. “Seven hells,“ he muttered under his breath and urged his horse to move on.  
When Gendry reached a clearing he spotted Ghost romping about with another wolf of his size. It had dark grey fur and was yelping and whining the way Ghost did. Gendry realized this must have been Nymeria.  
Relieved he descended from his horse and leaned against a tree to catch a breath and watch the two direwolves' reunion.  
There was no one besides Nymeria. No other wolves nor a girl. Gendry wondered where this wolf girl could be when he saw the direwolves stop and stare at him. Suddenly he noticed movements above him but before he could turn his head to look up, something was falling down on him and the next moment he was lying on his back with a woman on top of him and a dagger pressed to his throat.  
The woman only stared at him, holding the dagger firmly in her left hand. Dark brown strands of hair were hanging down from her face, stroking his. She had long, sharp features and full, crimson lips. But it were her eyes that captured him. Steely grey eyes like the storm. Eyes he would recognize among thousands. Arya.  
He did not know how long he was lying there in a bed of leaves and soil. None of them raised their voice to speak. They merely stared at each other in silence, the only movements the heaving of their chests and the blinking of their eyes, while the blade remained at his throat. He did not feel fear or resentment. He only felt delight and joy to look at her enchanting face. He did not care if he would die at this very moment, killed by her hand. He had been able to see her face again and nothing in the world mattered anymore.  
Gendry slowly raised his hand and placed his palm on her cheek. She flinched slightly at his touch but did not move. Tenderly he stroked the skin with his thumb. “Arya,“ he whispered.

Arya got up and sheathed her blade. Gendry felt strangely disappointed when her weight was lifted from him. He got up as well and shook off the dirt from his clothes.  
“Arya... Do you remember me?“, he asked hoarsely.  
Arya huffed at him. “I know who you are, traitor. You must be so proud of yourself. First knighted and now a lord,“ she turned her back on him and walked towards Ghost to bury her hand in his white furs. “I remember a smith never wanting to leave Harrenhal and now look at you. A perfumed lord. You disgust me.“  
Gendry frowned. Her words hurt and angered him. “ _I_ am a traitor? Wasn't it you who left me?“, he yelled. Nymeria was growling at him but he ignored it. “Wasn't it you who disappeared for five years? Five years of longing to see you again. Five years of hoping you were alive. Five years of blaming myself for letting you go. I fought for you, Arya. I fought for this goddamned land. And yes, I am a bloody lord now. It's not like I ever wanted to be. But don't you dare call me a traitor.“  
“What do you want here, Gendry?“, she snapped at him. “Or should I rather say, _my Lord_.“  
There was despise in her voice as she uttered the last words. Gendry flared his nostrils and was on the verge of screaming at her again. Instead he made an effort to calm himself down and be patient with her demeanour. After all he had to reason with her instead of arguing.  
“I've come to take you with me to King's Landing.“  
“Like hell I'll go there.“  
“Arya, think about it. There's Jon and Sansa. They miss you, too,“ _he_ missed her. But he refrained from voicing his thought.  
“Even more traitors,“ she replied but he felt her voice becoming less disdainful.  
“Jon found out he is a Targaryen when we were at the wall. He lives at court now, although he misses the North,“ Gendry thought talking to Arya about her remaining family might be a way to convince her. “Sansa has also seen many things in this war. Thankfully it did not break her. They never gave up on you. They always believed you would return one day. Don't you want to see them again?“  
Arya bit her lip. “Are they well?“, she asked ruefully. Gendry nodded smilingly. “How did you know I was here?“  
“Well, word gets around, my Lady. People saw a maiden riding a giant beast.“ Arya chuckled. “Also Lady Frey saw a woman standing in her chambers just before her spouse was killed.“  
Arya's expression darkened. “Gods be damned,“ she cursed.  
“So it was you?“  
“What's it to you?“, Arya snarled at him. “Did you come to seize me? Well, you can piss off or I'll have Nymeria rip you to pieces.“  
“I'll do no such thing, my Lady. I've only come to take you with me. You need to trust me. Or at least trust Jon.“  
Gendry saw Arya considering and it raised his hopes. The direwolves behind her had calmed down again and were lying on the ground next to each other, their heads on their paws.  
“I cannot come with you, Gendry,“ she said, her voice sounding remorseful. Gendry felt a pang in his chest.  
“Why is that?“  
Arya raised her face confidently. “I still have to accomplish something. I need to reclaim Winterfell.“  
“And you will,“ Gendry replied. Arya's declaration did not take him by surprise. He knew Arya belonged to the North and yearned for her home, the same way as Jon and Sansa did. Winterfell was a matter the small council often had discussed. The Boltons were strangers in the seat that had belonged to the Starks for centuries. Daenerys too had come to understand it. They had made plans to recapture Winterfell, but there was no one to hold the castle. Sansa had stated she did not feel able to rule the North alone. But Arya would. Arya had no fear. Together with Sansa they would be able to hold Winterfell. He would lose her again but it mattered not. She was well and she would be happy. “But not alone. The queen and Jon will help you. I will help you. Together we will conquer Winterfell and it will become the seat of the Starks again. This I swear to you, Arya Stark.“  
Arya's face lit up. She looked to Nymeria. “What do you think Nymeria? Do you think we should go visit Jon and Sansa?“ Nymeria barked and Arya laughed. “Alright,“ she sighed and nodded to Gendry. “Then let's leave for that awful place.“  
Overjoyed by her agreement to leave with him he stepped up to Arya and pulled her into an embrace. It startled Arya and he could feel her body tense, but after a few moments had passed she gingerly placed the palm of her hands on his back.  
“Thank you,“ he whispered, inhaling her scent.  
Only then Gendry realized how her body had changed over the years. He felt the swell of her breasts on his chest and his arms were touching the curve of her hips. Arya was no more the skinny, dishevelled little girl. She was a woman grown.  
At once Gendry felt embarrassed and let her go. He felt his face and ears turning red and he saw the confusion on Arya's face.  
“I'm sorry, my Lady,“ he mumbled.  
Arya hit him hard on his arm. “Stop calling me that, you stupid. If you want me to come with you, you have to call me by my name.“  
“As m'lady commands.“  
Arya furrowed her brows and looked at him indignantly. Then she threw her head back and laughed out loud. It was the loveliest sound Gendry had ever heard. It filled him with mirth and he grinned stupidly.  
“You're still the same bull-headed idiot.“  
“And you're still the same wayward lady trying to be a wolf.“  
“I am no lady,“ Arya scowled at him before she hopped on Nymeria.  
Gendry was astonished to look at it. “You're actually riding her?“  
Arya grinned at him. “What did you say? I was trying to be a wolf?“

 

***

They had been riding for the entire day, mostly in silence. Gendry wanted to ask her thousands of questions but Arya had not been very talkative. He sensed Arya was still wary of him.  
At nightfall they decided to make camp. The direwolves had left, probably to hunt.  
Since Gendry had not slept well the night before, he felt exhausted. He remembered his dream. The way Arya had been tortured in his imagination. But she was there and she was well. She was there with him.  
“I went to the Hollow Hill,“ Arya said as she was lighting a fire.  
Gendry froze. She must have met Lady Stoneheart then. “Haven't seen them in years, wonder how they're doing.“  
Arya shrugged. “They're a bunch of fools murdering under the command of a supposed to be dead woman.“  
“So you saw her?“ Arya nodded. “Queen Daenerys had ordered them to stop the killings. I don't think they're doing it anymore, for the queen would have them arrested. Anyways, I'm sorry, Arya.“  
“It's not your fault. It's Beric's.“  
“Lord Beric never wanted this. He traded his life because he thought he would give life to Lady Catelyn Stark again. He did not know of the atrocities she would order. She did it out of vengeance. For her children.“  
Arya snorted. “For her children, you say? She didn't even recognize me. Even that tavern girl Jeyne knew who I am.“  
“You went to Jeyne's?“, Gendry asked in surprise, excitement in his voice. “How is she and Willow? The orphans?“  
Arya perked up her eyebrows. “Yes, I saw _Jeyne_. They're doing good I believe. Why? D'you want to visit her?“  
Gendry was irritated by the tone of her voice. She sounded vexed. “Maybe I'll do so,“ he replied. “But another time.“  
“Whatever, I'll go to sleep now. Good night.“  
She lay down on the other side of the fire and tuck herself up in heavy furs. Gendry followed suit.  
“Good night, m'lady.“  
Arya huffed but did not bother to comment.

The night was cold and Gendry was shivering beneath his furs. After all it was winter in Westeros. Although he was thankful for the fire, it was not enough to warm him up. He remembered the nights when he would sleep next to Arya. When they were warming each other. Gendry wondered if she did remember as well.  
He tried to imagine how it would feel to lie next to her again. To hold her body in his arms. Back then they had been children, but now they had changed. As Gendry felt a rush of heat flooding down to his groin, he shook his head as if he could get rid of the vision and silently scolded himself for his thoughts.  
He heard Arya mumbling something. “Dunsen, Ser Meryn, Ser Ilyn, Cersei, Ramsay Bolton. Valar morghulis.“  
“Are you still reciting your prayer?“, he asked but she did not respond. After a while he continued. “I don't know about Dunsen, but Ser Meryn and Ser Ilyn are dead. Killed when Daenerys and Aegon took King's Landing. So is the Mountain by the way. Cersei might be alive at Casterly Rock, but Tyrion says she is to be pitied. She's lost her beauty and her power. Her daughter lives in Dorne, her son is married to a woman she despises, her beloved brother has forgotten about her long since. As for Bolton, we'll take care about him soon enough.“  
“Cersei doesn't deserve my pity,“ she spat out. “She's one of the reasons my father is dead. And Lady.“  
Gendry sighed. “I should resent her, too. Remember the gold cloaks? They looked for me because she wanted me dead. But I'm alive and well, while she's alone and mournful. It's not all about vengeance, Arya.“  
“No. You're wrong. _Everything_ is about vengeance,“ she growled with embitterment.  
He shook his head but did not continue the dispute.  
“Dunsen, Cersei, Ramsay Bolton. Valar morghulis,“ he heard her saying after a while.  
Arya's thirst for revenge troubled him. He would have to think of something eventually. But for the time being he delighted in the feeling of having her back. After all this time she was by his side again. His hope had not been futile for Arya Stark had finally returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Was it too easy for Gendry to convince Arya to come with him? I was thinking she longed to see Sansa and Jon and thus decided to go. More of her view will be in the next chapter!
> 
> \- I've read some complaints of people hating on the fact that Gendry gets Storm's End in some fanfiction. One of the reasons is Shireen. I actually don't think it's so odd for Gendry to get that place. And somebody has to hold Dragonstone. Hm, in the end, this is only fanfiction!
> 
> \- oh, and many characters are alive in my story of which I don't think will actually survive in the original series. 
> 
> \- btw my story is a total single party. Nobody is married which is quite unlikely..


	5. The Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all so much for the feedback! Be it kudos or comments. They made my day!  
> 

Arya could still not believe the fact that she was heading for King's Landing. The capital of corruption, the place where the demise of her former life had begun, the city that had taken her father's life.  
The idea of seeing Jon and Sansa again was the reason she had accepted Gendry's request to leave with him. After so many years she was longing to see her sister and her cousin again and this longing eased the fear of the city that was awaiting her.  
Arya had not expected Gendry to come looking for her. She had imagined Gendry revelling in his castle, holding feasts and tourneys the way southern lords did. But he had found her and she admittedly felt a little glad to know he had survived the war and that he had not forgotten about her.  
However, she felt Gendry had become estranged from her.  
He was no more that bastard smith boy she had met on her escape from King's Landing. He was no more the boy who once had made fun of her when she wore that awful dress in Acorn Hall, the boy she had shared a bed with while they were staying with the brotherhood.  
He was someone else. He was different. More confident, more articulate. Arya could not say whether she liked or hated it. Although he did look like Gendry, she had recognised him by the colour of his eyes and by his stubborn frown, his appearance had changed. He was taller, stronger, more mature. Gendry had become a man.  
During their ride Arya would catch herself studying him from the corner of her eyes ever so often. Gendry's features had grown sharper, a black stubble was darkening his strong jaw and his ruffled raven hair was reaching to his eyes. Arya decided he was handsome.  
Proudly Gendry sat on his destrier. She did not even know he was able to ride. He wore a black armour, crested with yellow ornaments and he had a warhammer fastened to his side.  
She wondered if he had chosen the hammer because of his former profession as a smith or because he had accepted his heritage.  
“So, your father was a king?“, she broke their silence.  
Gendry frowned and mumbled something to himself before he replied. “The man that sired me was a king, yes.“  
“And it is because of him you can call yourself a lord,“ she retorted.  
“Perhaps, but he was not the one to legitimise me, “ Gendry sighed and seemed deep in thought for a moment. “At the end of the day I'm still a bastard. I will always remain a bastard. The only difference is that I'm no base-born bastard.“  
“Did you know he was once betrothed to my aunt Lyanna? Before she died,“ Arya asked. She was not sure why her late aunt came to her mind. She did not know much about Lyanna only that Arya supposedly resembled her in both appearance and nature. She was Jon's mother. And Rhaegar Targaryen was his father. Although Arya had accepted the truth of Jon's birth, it still felt weird to her.  
Gendry did not respond. He only stared at her, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Arya did not know how to assess his expression. She felt uncomfortable with his blue eyes gazing at her. “Stop staring at me, stupid.“  
As if he became suddenly aware of himself, Gendry turned his face away and coughed slightly. “Of course I know. She was the reason he started his rebellion.“

 

***

 

It was high noon when they reached King's Landing. As Arya looked at the walls surrounding the city she felt the panic returning. She thought of simply turning around and heading northwards again. Gendry must have perceived her fear because he was smiling at her assuringly. _You're no craven, Arya,_ she thought to herself and they continued to the Dragon Gate. At the gate Arya noticed the guards looked strange. They had darker skin and wore armour in the style of the free cities. A spear and a shield in each hand.  
“These are the queen's guards. She brought them with her from Essos. They're called 'the unsullied'“, Gendry explained when he saw her confused look.  
They passed through the gate and after six years Arya was standing inside King's Landing again.  
As they walked the streets leading to Aegon's High Hill Arya felt the people staring at them or rather at Nymeria, who Arya was still riding.  
“The wolf girl,“ she heard them whispering.  
“Do you think it's her?“  
“Is she the lost Stark girl?“  
The looks made Arya feel uneasy. She shifted on top of Nymeria and stroked the hilt of Needle. Eventually they reached Aegon's High Hill and Gendry brought his horse to the stable. Arya descended the direwolf but would not leave her side. Hesitantly she walked up the stairs to the castle. Each step she took seemed heavier and she felt cold sweat forming beneath her clothes. She felt Gendry placing his hand at the small of her back as if to give her reassurance. Arya swallowed and they entered through the gate to the Red Keep.

 

“Arya!“, she heard someone calling her inside the yard. She saw a woman with long auburn hair grabbing her skirts and rushing towards her. The woman flung her arms around Arya and squeezed her. “It is you,“ she said sobbing. “It is truly you.“  
“Sansa,“ Arya breathed.  
Sansa kissed Arya's face and caressed her cheeks while tears were streaming down hers. “My sweet sister, you're alive,“ she engulfed Arya in another hug and continued to sob uncontrollably.  
“Gods, Sansa,“ Arya said rolling her eyes. Nevertheless she felt tears stinging in her own eyes. Seeing Sansa after all those years felt better than Arya had expected. It was almost as if a weight was lifted from her heart.  
Sansa let go of her sister to study her. “You've grown so much,“ she cried out while brushing away her tears. “And you're all dirty. We'll have a bath for you arranged. And a feast.“  
Arya groaned. Behind her she heard Gendry snigger. 

Sansa took Arya's hand and led her inside the keep, continuously weeping and asking her questions. Her sister brought Arya to her chamber inside Maegor's Holdfast. There she told her maids to prepare a bath while fetching dresses from her wardrobe. Sansa gigglingly splayed the gowns on her bed.  
Her sister's intend dawned on Arya. “Sansa, what are you doing?“  
“Why, picking out a dress for my sister of course,“ Sansa said with a singing voice. Her broad smile showed the dimples on her cheeks.  
Arya scowled at her. “I don't want to wear a dress.“  
“And what do you want to wear? Your clothes are all dirty. Let me have them washed but wear a dress for now. It doesn't have to be too splendid.“  
“I'd prefer breeches and a tunic.“  
Sansa gave her a scolding look. “I'll have new ones made for you. Fitting for your size, from fine leather and silk. Tonight you have to wear something though. And I won't let you wear men's cloth or your dirty rags.“  
The idea of wearing a dress annoyed Arya. She had not even spent an hour inside the Red Keep and they already tried to change her. However, she knew she could not deny her sister's request for it would sadden Sansa.  
“You've changed,“ Arya said as she sat on Sansa's bed. Sansa's reaction to their reunion had overwhelmed Arya. She remembered her sister treating her cold and dismissively. They had never gotten along well but now Sansa seemed so happy to see her again.  
“We all have changed. It's been six years. We've grown and we've witnessed too much. You've yet to tell me everything,“ Sansa was squealing again. “You'll stay at my chamber tonight, yes?“  
“I mean, I never thought you'd be so pleased to see me,“ Arya said feeling a little awkward.  
“What are you talking about, Arya?“, Sansa sat herself next to Arya and took her sister's hand in hers. With the other hand she caressed Arya's cheek.  
“There has never been a day when I wasn't thinking of you. I always prayed for you to stay safe and for me to meet you again one day,“ tears were forming in Sansa's eyes again and she pulled Arya into another hug. “You are my only family. I feel so blessed to have you back.“  
The maids returned with jugs of hot water. They poured the water together with scented oils and petals into the bronze bathtub.  
“Alright, I'll wear the dress, but do I have to smell like a damn flowerbed?“  
Sansa laughed heartily at Arya's scoff and pinched her sister's cheeks. “Gods, I missed you so much.“

***

All bathed and dressed up, Arya could not endure the wait to see Jon any longer. Sansa had Arya dressed in a midnight blue woollen dress. It was fashioned in the style of the North bare of any stupid embroderies, so Arya put up with wearing it.  
Sansa offered to accompany her sister to find Jon, but they were stopped by one of the queen's guards as soon as they exited Sansa's chamber.  
“You are to be brought to the Great Hall, my Lady,“ the soldier explained with a thick accent. “The queen and the princes await you there.“  
So the two sisters together with Nymeria set out for the throne room followed by four guards.

Inside the Great Hall Arya noticed the room had changed. The hunting tapestries from Robert Baratheon's reign adorning the walls were exchanged for black and red tapestries embroidered with dragons, so that no one could forget who it was that ruled the Seven Kingdoms.  
In front of the steps that led to the Iron Throne she saw the familiar face of Jon who was still dressed all in black. Sitting on the Iron Throne was the silver haired queen with her other silver haired nephew on her right side.  
When Arya saw Jon she let out a cry of joy and started running up to him. They embraced each other and silently stayed like that for a while until she heard the queen clearing her throat. Jon let loose off her and Arya remembered her curtsies as she bowed her head to the queen of the Seven Kingdoms.  
“I'm pleased to finally meet you, Lady Arya,“ the queen said smiling at her warmly. Arya was fascinated by her appearance. Her hair was long and wavy, her skin golden and despite the distance she could see the purple of her eyes. The queen wore a loose lilac gown of silk, that exposed her shoulders and her hips. Prince Aegon looked just like her. Dressed in pale blue silk, with the same hair, although it was only reaching to his shoulders, same skin and same eyes. They bore no resemblance to Jon.  
“I assume you fared well on your journey with Lord Baratheon?“  
“Thank you, your Grace. The journey was pleasant enough.“  
The queen nodded and her expression turned into a serious one. Arya noticed Jon looking to the ground.  
“There is a reason why I summoned you to the throne room, Lady Arya.“  
Arya tried to keep calm while several thoughts came rushing to her mind. Inside her head she began to guess the reason. Perhaps it was to discuss the recapture of Winterfell. Or a betrothal. She shifted from one foot to another. Or she wanted to discuss the early decease of Walder Frey.  
“Lying to your queen would be treason. Therefore I advise you to say the truth, Lady Arya.“  
Arya licked her lips. Yes, it was probably Walder Frey.  
“There is reason to believe you were involved in the slaying of Lord Walder Frey of the Twins. Is this true?“  
Arya bit her lip and bowed her head. She considered lying but decided to go with the truth. In Braavos she had been faceless when she killed. When she killed Frey however, she had been Arya Stark. This time she would adhere to the actions of Arya Stark. “Yes, Your Grace.“  
“How did you do it?“, the queen asked.  
Arya looked around the hall to see who would be witness to her confession. Several of the so called unsullied were present. She did not care about them. But she did care about Sansa, who was looking at her with a hurting expression. At least Gendry was not there to hear. Arya sighed and gave the queen her answer.  
“I disguised myself as a maid to get inside the castle. There I snucked into Frey's chamber. I slit his throat and stabbed him with a dagger.“  
The queen nodded. “Why did you do it?“  
“To avenge my brother and my mother.“  
“And, tell me, Lady Arya, where did you learn to kill?“, this time Arya noticed curiosity in the queen's voice.  
“The war taught me to kill, Your Grace. In order to survive, I needed to kill.“  
It was not even a lie but the queen nonetheless did not seem convinced.  
“ _Where did you learn to kill?_ “, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms raised her voice in a threatening manner. The echoes of her words filled the room. Arya then thought she saw a glimpse of the dragon.  
“In Braavos, Your Grace.“  
The queen gave her a satisfied smile. “And what exactly did you learn in Braavos?“  
Arya closed her eyes. She was not ready to talk about it. “I was trained to be an assassin. I was taught to become one of the Faceless Men.“  
The queen clicked her tongue. Arya saw prince Aegon shaking his head, the corners of his lips twisted down. Jon wore a serious and concerned expression. Behind her Arya heard Sansa gasping.  
“So you are a Faceless Men?“  
Arya nodded.  
“When did you return to Westeros? And why?“  
“Not a moon's turn ago. The guild of the Faceless Men expelled me. They said I did not belong there. They said I belonged to Westeros. And I felt Nymeria calling me. I felt my home was calling me.“  
The queen furrowed her brows and looked to Jon. The man looked up to his queen aunt and Arya wondered what his face was betraying.  
“I accept the fact that the war made you who you are, although as queen to the Seven Kingdoms I need to be wary of an assassin. Nevertheless you murdered a Lord in a time of peace. It is a crime for which you need to be sentenced, Lady Arya.“  
The queen's gaze bore into Arya and her eyes widened in alarm. She expected the queen to pronounce the sentence of her death. Together with the panic, anger mingled inside Arya. Gendry had betrayed her. Jon had betrayed her. She was brought here to be sentenced. She thought of killing them all before being killed. Nymeria changed into a threatening stance and snarled at the queen.  
“I have given my word not to harm you and I will stay true to my word,“ the queen continued. “However, Lady Arya, you are forbidden to leave the Red Keep until I rescind the judgement. And if I ever hear that wolf growl at me again I shall introduce her to my dragons.“ Complacently the queen leaned back into her throne. “I shall have chambers arranged for you and we shall have a feast upon your return.“  
Arya did not feel for any feasts. She might not die but she was a captive.  
“A murderer doesn't need a feast, Your Grace,“ she huffed at the queen's suggestion. “If you would excuse me, Your Grace. I feel tired and I'd like to leave for my sister's chambers.“  
The queen raised an eyebrow but made a dismissive gesture. Arya bowed her head again and spoke through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your mercy, your Grace.“

 

Furious Arya stomped out the Great Hall. Outside she saw Gendry waiting.  
“What did the queen tell you?“, he asked her, looking impatiently.  
“ _You,_ “ Arya growled. Boiling with anger she was ready to beat him. “You traitor. You backstabbing _bastard_. Don't you dare ever speak to me again.“  
He knitted his brows and gave her the stupid look that infuriated her all the more. “What happened?“  
“ _What happened?_ “, she shrieked. “I am imprisoned in this bloody castle. You captured me, you disloyal arse. Don't act so stupid. I hate you. What do you want here anyway? Go be lord to your gods be damned castle and never speak to me again.“  
Gendry grimaced, hurt by her words. “Arya.“  
She slapped him forcefully. “Never. Speak. To. Me. Again.“  
Arya thought she saw tears glistening in his eyes, before she turned around and left.

 

***

The next morning Arya awoke to a knock on the door to Sansa's chamber. Arya's eyes flew open and she noticed Sansa had already left the bed only to be replaced by Nymeria who was snuggled up to her.  
Arya had thought Sansa would despise her after her confession in the throne room. Instead Sansa had promised Arya that everything would be fine. That they would soon be home in Winterfell again and that she wanted to hear every detail of Arya's past six years. They had stayed up until dawn sharing their stories before falling asleep in each others arms.

“Arya, please open up,“ she heard Jon's demanding voice.  
“Go away,“ Arya shouted and pulled the bedcover over her head. “I don't want to talk to you, traitor.“  
Jon knocked again but Arya kept ignoring him. Then the door flung open and he entered. Arya cursed. Of course the door would not be locked if Sansa had already left the chamber.  
“What do you want, Jon? I mean _Your Grace_.“  
“Cut the crap, Arya,“ he picked up her freshly washed tunic and breeches and threw it to her. “Now get dressed, we need to talk. I'll wait outside.“  
Still cursing Arya did as he bid and joined Jon in the hallway.

“You still have this?“, Jon asked in surprise while pointing to Needle at her belt.  
“Of course. It's good steel.“  
“You managed to keep it all those years?“, he was visibly moved. Arya rolled her eyes. She was still angry and not in for any emotional reunions.  
“Obviously I have.“  
Jon put his arms around her and sighed into her hair. “Gods, I missed you.“  
Arya's bottom lip began to tremble. She realised she was about to cry but forced her tears back.  
“You've betrayed me. And I don't even know who you are. You're not my brother. You're a prince. A Targaryen.“  
Jon let go off her and ruffled through her hair. Immediately Arya felt a pang in her chest. “Still don't know who I am?“ Arya crossed her arms and pouted but it merely led to Jon laughing. “You'll forever stay my little sister. Aside from that we're still kin,“ he shrugged. “Come let's take a walk with Nymeria and Ghost in the yard.“  
At that Arya could not help but smile.

Arya remembered King's Landing being hot and stinking, but winter had come to the capital as well and the morning air was chilly. Arya frowned at the fact that she was cold. She was from the North, she could not be cold. The years in Braavos had spoilt her.  
Arya was walking through the gardens next to Jon with Ghost and Nymeria scampering ahead of them.  
“What did you say to Gendry?“, Jon asked her with a serious face.  
The mentioning of Gendry's name reminded Arya of how furious she was. “I told him to fuck off and never talk to me again. Why?“  
“Arya!“ Jon scolded her. “I cannot believe you.“  
“He betrayed me,“ Arya said indignantly. “He deserved it.“  
“He did not _betray_ you. The queen wanted to punish you but he opposed her to take a stand for you. It was risky of him, but he did it because you matter to him,“ Jon was shaking his head in disbelief.  
Arya bit her lip. As she thought about Jon's words, she started to feel bad for her behaviour. If it was true that Gendry risked his safety for her she needed to apologise to him. “Do you know where he is?“  
Jon frowned. “He left for Storm's End this morning.“  
“Oh,“ Arya replied, feeling a little disappointed.  
“He cares about you deeply, do you know that?“  
Arya shrugged her shoulders. “I wouldn't know. He's a stranger to me. I met him when we were children and we parted when he decided to become a knight for the Brotherhood without Banners.“  
“I know,“ Jon sighed. “He told me everything. We met three years ago before he was legitimised. He forged the blades that were able to kill the others. Without him Westeros might have perished. He went to the wall because of you though,“ Arya stared at him doubtfully. “He said he had the hope you would return to me. And you'd want someone to fight with me.“  
Arya chuckled. “He's too stupid.“  
Jon smirked and the two lapsed into silence.  
“Do you like it? Being at court I mean,“ Arya asked after a while. She watched the two direwolves quarelling and rolling around in the grass. They seemed happy to be reunited. Arya felt sad that they would probably never reunite with their other brothers again. At least not with Grey Wind and Lady.  
“I hate it,“ Jon replied. “I miss the North. I miss the snow. I miss the wall. And sometimes I even miss being a bastard. I don't like the noble life and I don't think I can ever adjust to the life here.“  
Hearing Jon uttering these words made Arya feel hurt. She wanted Jon to be happy and not leading a life of sadness. “Why don't you leave then? Can't you return to the Night's Watch? Or perhaps you can become Lord of Winterfell!“  
“I am no Stark, Arya,“ he said bitterly. “Although I'll always think of Eddard Stark as my father. He was the man who raised me. Rhaegar Targaryen is no one to me. Sometimes I wish I could've known him and my mother, but in the end I feel love and respect only toward's Eddard Stark.“ Arya felt tears forming in her eyes again and she took Jon's hand as he continued. “The Night's Watch has changed as well. There is no threat beyond the wall anymore. The others are no more and the wildlings live in peace with the northerners. You might say I've sworn an oath to stay at the wall until my death. Perhaps this oath was revoked from me by the daggers in the dark. Who knows?“, Arya frowned in confusion. She did not understand the meaning of Jon's words, nevertheless she was reluctant to interrupt him. “Dany once said the Night's Watch pledges to protect the realm. And as a prince to the realm, I serve and protect. So when I am at court, I am fulfilling my oath.“  
Arya nodded. After her father, Jon had always been the most dutiful and honourable men she had ever come to know. It was duty and honour that was keeping him here. As if he was half Tully and not her.  
“Can you feel Nymeria? I mean, do you sometimes feel you are inside her body?“, he asked her suddenly and Arya stared at him in bewilderment.  
“How do you know?“  
“I figured,“ Jon grinned. “Because I too can do it with Ghost. It's called 'warging'. You can enter the minds of an animal and see through their eyes.“  
Arya's jaw dropped. “So it wasn't only a dream? I can control it?“  
“That's why I could not sense you,“ Jon nodded to himself. “You are not aware of your ability.“  
Arya squealed with excitement. “Tell me everything about it!“

***

A few weeks later Arya still had not adjusted to her presence behind the walls of the Red Keep. Although she was allowed to move freely inside the castle and the yards she felt like a prisoner behind bars. Nymeria had left her too. She had to return to her pack but Arya hoped she would come back to her soon again. Lately Arya felt like half a person without the direwolf by her side. Her only consolation was that she was able to spend a lot of time with Jon and Sansa. The time with them made her somewhat lighthearted and she even stopped thinking of her revenge constantly. Nevertheless she was urging Jon to arrange the recapture of Winterfell every day.  
Arya wanted to go home. Home in Winterfell or back in the forest with Nymeria. Life at the Red Keep just was not for her. The walls around her were suffocating her. Arya was standing at the training ground, practising her water dance when she noticed prince Aegon observing her. She stopped and watched him approaching.  
“They say you look like her,“ the prince began to talk. It was the first time he had spoken to her. Arya had disliked him from the start. He seemed conceited and full of himself, always having a smug look on his face. A pretty face it was, but a face she would prefer to strike.  
“Like who?“, Arya asked, still holding Needle in her left hand.  
“Your aunt Lyanna. The woman for whom my father left my mother. I wanted to look at the face that led to the death of so many.“  
Arya felt offended by his accusations. Aegon was standing opposite to her, scowling as if she was a demon descended from the seven hells to infest him.  
“Wasn't it your father who took her? Wasn't it your father who neglected your mother at the tourney in Harrenhal, crowning Lyanna as his queen of love and beauty?“, she countered.  
Aegon huffed. “If it wasn't for her, the Ursurper would not have started his rebellion and my parents would still be alive.“  
Arya sheathed Needle into her side. “As far as I'm concerned your lunatic grandfather killed my grandfather and my uncle, together with countless other innocents, which led to the rebellion. Not because your father could not keep it in his pants.“  
Aegon's face darkened and the corners of his mouth twisted down. She saw his violet eyes sparkling with fury. “I don't know what he saw in her. I can only see a wolf bitch not worthy of the death of thousands.“  
Arya watched Aegon marching off and she pitied Jon for his idiot half-brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Although it was me who wrote this, I felt so bad for Gendry! Am I turning mad?
> 
> \- Arya is a strong and independent character. Therefore I adore her. She showed some feelings here, but I don't intend to turn her into a simpering idiot (to quote one of my reviewers)  
> I intend to keep her strong but also show her vulnerable and human side. I hope I will manage to do this.


	6. The Fleeting Desire

Another moon had passed and Gendry was on his way to King's Landing again. The queen had called for another council.  
After his last encounter with Arya, Gendry felt reluctant to return to the Red Keep. Arya's outburst had upset him a lot and he had sulkingly returned to Storm's End early the next morning. Davos immediately had noticed that something was up with Gendry since he had been quieter than usual with an everlasting frown on his face.  
Despite his frustration Gendry was not surprised by Arya's temper. After all it had indeed looked like he had lured her to the capital to lead her like a lamb to the slaughter.  
He cursed himself for being so naive. What did he expect? That she would fling her arms around his neck, bestowing him with kisses for their happy reunion? Hardly likely. Arya was not one for pretty songs about knights and love. Arya was not in need of a man. And it was one reason she intrigued him so much. Nevertheless he was scared to see her again. Scared about the way she would react to him. He wanted to get closer to her, to hear about her experiences, to tell her about his. But Gendry knew better than to push Arya.  
He let out a frustrated sigh as the outlines of King's Landing became visible.

***

Upon Gendry's arrival Daenerys had summoned him to the council chambers together with the two princes to speak in private.  
The four of them were seated around the table while Daenerys was tapping her fingers on the wood regarding Gendry intently.  
“So, Gendry,“ she began to speak. The informal address astonished him a little. “I will speak outright. Since you and Lady Arya are already well acquainted with each other I recommend you to wed her. It would be a good match to strengthen both your houses and a good alliance for the realm.“  
Gendry was taken aback. Although he could not deny that he was feeling in some way drawn to Arya, he did not like what the queen was suggesting.  
Even though their encounter in the woods had enchanted Gendry and since then he had been secretly fantasizing about the wolf girl in the forest, he did not want an arranged marriage with Arya. She would hate him, possibly even kill him.  
“So they can produce more usurper childern?“, Aegon beat Gendry to a reply. “I disapprove of this marriage.“  
Daenerys raised an eyebrow at Aegon who had his arms folded and was making a disgusted face. “Perhaps you want to marry Lady Arya then, dear nephew?“  
Gendry balled his fists under the table. The idea of Aegon marrying Arya was even worse. He would rather be killed in his sleep by a hateful bride than let the cocky prince have her. He would kill Aegon if he dared to touch Arya. Gendry frowned at his own thinking. _What was the saying? Like father, like son_ , he thought.  
Aegon huffed at his aunt. “No, thank you. I have no interest in that wolf bitch.“  
Gendry's jealousy subsided to anger from the way Aegon was talking about Arya. He saw Jon's face darkening, as well. “I'd prefer her sister Sansa to her a thousand times. She's at least beautiful.“  
“I don't know about Sansa,“ Jon tossed in. His voice sounded defensive. “Her wish is it to return to the North together with Arya. Sansa misses her home.“  
“I was thinking about Arianne Martell,“ Daenerys said cocking her head towards Aegon. “She'd be a good match. And she too is still unwed.“  
“Isn't she Aegon's cousin?“, Jon remarked. “You said you didn't want to mix up the same blood anymore because of your father's madness.“  
“Then maybe you'd want to wed her, Jon?“  
Jon bit the inside of his cheek and looked sheepishly to his folded hands placed on the table, leaving Daenerys waiting for an answer.  
“Your Grace,“ Gendry meddled into the conversation. “Even if I was willing to marry Arya, she'd decline me. I know that Arya refuses to marry and live the life of a proper Lady. Aside from that she bears a grudge against me. She believes I betrayed her when I brought her to court for you to sentence her.“  
Daenerys shook her head and let out a defeated laugh. “What is it with you lot not wanting to marry? Seeing as I was forced into a marriage at a young age, I don't want to do the same to you. But we need heirs,“ she said more urgently. “You all have to marry eventually. I'd marry, but since I'm barren it would be futile anyway. Please, just consider it.“  
Both Jon and Gendry nodded although unconvinced. Aegon only raised his face defiantly.  
“Why the hurry? There is no threat to our reign anyway.“  
“Oh, stop being such an arrogant fool!“, Daenerys snapped at him. “The Greyjoys are not loyal to us. They could always form another rebellion. We still have the Bolton's in the North and although they're weakened, I don't trust the Lannisters either. Save for Tyrion.“  
The Iron Islands were ruled by Euron Greyjoy. He had acknowledged Daenerys as queen to the Seven Kingdoms, but he was nevertheless leading an autonomous government. There had been no incidents that might suggest another rebellion, but Daenerys had always been wary and suspicious of the Greyjoys. Especially of Euron Greyjoy.  
The Lannisters in Casterly Rock were indeed weakened. Cersei was half insane, her children both wed, and as Tyrion had assured, no threat to the realm. Jamie Lannister had been expelled to Essos. Tyrion had begged Daenerys to reconsider her decision but Daenerys would not forgive the Kingslayer for the crimes he had committed during Robert Baratheon's rebellion. From time to time Tyrion would still approach the subject but Daenerys remained stubborn.  
The Boltons on the other hand where a matter they desperately had to discuss now that Arya had returned.  
“Aegon, what about the Lady Shireen Baratheon?“, Daenerys brought the topic back to the beginning.  
“Are you out of your mind?“, Aegon screamed with a high-pitched voice. He seemed utterly insulted. “I'd rather burn before I marry the usurper's kin.“  
Daenerys sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Gods help me.“  
“Your Grace,“ Gendry began. “There are other matters I'd rather discuss than weddings. The Boltons are holding Winterfell for five years now. The house belongs to the Starks. It has belonged to them for thousands of years. It's a shame Ramsay Bolton is holding the North. He is hated by the Northerners. And now that Arya has returned the Starks are finally able to return to their home.“  
Before Daenerys was able to reply Jon rose from his chair to speak.  
“We've been idle for too long,“ he said, his voice solemn and determined. “The Boltons were involved in the slaughtering of Robb Stark and his mother. You are the queen. You can dispose Ramsay Bolton of his title and his lands. I know you value the peace but sooner or later there won't be any peace in the North with Ramsay in Winterfell. He doesn't deserve to have this seat. Neither did Walder Frey. When Arya killed him, she did the right thing.“  
“She shouldn't have killed him, Jon.“  
“He killed my brother,“ Jon hissed. “During a wedding. He violated the guest rights. He dismembered their bodies and disrespected my family. He should have died much earlier, Daenerys. If you want to be respected by your people, you have to do this. There is more to being a queen, than having dragons and be nice and generous. You also have to let justice prevail.“  
The queen narrowed her eyes at Jon. She was offended by his accusations but Jon was right. The realm might respect Daenerys as their queen but mostly due to the fact that she was the mother of three terrifying dragons. She had diminished the threat that lay beyond the wall and the people were thankful for it. She had also made huge improvements in rebuilding the wartorn Westeros, providing nourishments for the smallfolk and in developing other state affairs such as finances and diplomacy. Yet there were issues she had ignored. Her reformations did not include the cleansing of potential threats to Westeros' peace.  
“Do you think all of this is so easy?“, she bawled at Jon. “Do you think I was sitting on my throne doing nothing?“  
“No,“ he said looking down to an upset Daenerys. “You're a good and fair queen with laudable intentions. But you're ignoring this for too long now.“  
“I know,“ she sighed wearily. “You are right, Jon. I am sorry, you are right. I might have focussed on the wrong things. I shall have ravens sent out. The Twins shall no longer be hold by the Freys. I will replace them with a castellan. And Ramsay Bolton shall no longer be Lord of Winterfell. I will have his title removed.“  
“You should also release Arya from her sentence,“ Gendry added. “She did the right thing, even if she did it the wrong way.“  
Daenerys nodded. “She and Sansa may leave for Winterfell as soon as Bolton vacates the seat.“  
“And what if Bolton resists?“, Jon asked.  
“Then you shall purge the place.“

***

Jon had advised Gendry to be the one to speak to Arya. He found her at the training ground, where Jon had told him she would usually spend her days in the Red Keep.  
Nervously Gendry approached Arya who was standing with her back to him. She was practising a sideways stance, her left arm was stretched out and she was holding a wooden practise sword.  
“My lady,“ he greeted her.  
She lowered her arm and squared her shoulders without turning around. “My lord.“  
Smiling Gendry shook his head but proceeded. “I've come to inform you, you are no longer a prisoner inside this keep.“ Arya turned around to look at him. She had one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Furthermore I am to tell you that Winterfell will soon belong to the Starks again. Ramsay Bolton's title will be revoked and Sansa and you will be named as Ladies of Winterfell.“  
“About time,“ Arya replied nodding. “When can Sansa and I leave for Winterfell?“  
Although Gendry had known all along that Arya would return to Winterfell eventually, he had a difficulty to suppress his chagrin. He did not want Arya to leave. Not now that he had finally found her after all those years.  
For a brief moment he considered to propose marriage to her but quickly shoved the thought aside again. After all it was a ridiculous idea.  
“The queen has sent out a raven for Bolton to leave Winterfell. Then it shall be yours again.“  
Arya grimaced and took a step closer to him. “Are you telling me that bastard is allowed to just leave like that?“, Gendry winced at her use of the word bastard. “Gendry, he is a monster. His father was responsible for the murders of my mother and my brother. He tainted the name of the Starks. He tainted _my_ name when he married a bloody impostor for fuck's sake,“ Arya began to yell. “I want to kill him. I want to slice him up and hear him taking his last breath. He doesn't deserve better.“  
Gendry had expected Arya to react this way. Ramsay Bolton did not deserve such an amicable treatment, albeit it was unlikely that Ramsay would accept his removal as amicably.  
“If he refuses to leave, which he probably will, we shall leave to seize Winterfell.“  
“We?“, Arya asked. “You mean to come with me?“  
Gendry nodded and also took a step closer to her, leaving merely a few inches of distance between them. “Yes. I shall help you retake your home, my lady.“  
“What about Storm's End? What if you die?“  
“I have a castellan,“ he smirked. “And you don't need to worry about me. I won't die.“  
Arya narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Who said I was worrying, you stupid?“  
Gendry laughed and Arya punched his arm which only resulted in Gendry laughing more.  
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Jon told me you spoke against the queen for me. I guess I should thank you for that.“  
“I take you're not angry with me anymore?“, she shook her head no. “Well, I'm glad to hear that,“ Gendry said giving her a warm smile. He felt relief washing over him.  
“Why did you do that?“, Arya asked him frowning. “Why did you defend me?“  
“Firstly I think you did the right thing. I was with the brotherhood when your mother and brother were killed. Everybody believed you too were killed on that day. I was outraged,“ as if thrown back to the day when they told him Arya had died, Gendry felt desperate and infuriated again. “By the Seven, I should've killed Frey myself.“  
Arya seemed to approve of his explanation and Gendry felt his heart skipping a beat at her sight. His distraught escaped him instantly when he saw her smiling at him. Her skin was darker, browned by the Braavosi sun. Her grey eyes were sparkling with what seemed like gratitude. Her lips were formed into a smile, showing her teeth.  
“Aside from that, I was scared the queen would punish you. Of course Jon wouldn't allow that, but the idea of you being harmed made me mad I guess,“ Gendry shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn't let that happen.“  
“I don't get it,“ she frowned again. “You barely know me. Why would you put yourself in danger for me?“  
“What are you saying, Arya? I barely know you,“ he huffed. “True, I haven't seen you for five years. But have you forgotten about Harrenhal? About our time with the brotherhood?“  
Arya stared to the ground. “How could I possibly forget Harrenhal?“  
“Where is Nymeria by the way?“, Gendry asked trying to change the subject, as he saw the conversation was leading into an unpleasant direction.  
“She's gone,“ Arya answered with a downcast glance. “She left for her pack in the Riverlands. I hope she will return soon. I envy Jon. Ghost is always at his side.“  
Gendry scratched the back of his neck. It appeared he was rather unlucky in the choice of topics.  
“So I'm free to go wherever I want now?“, Arya asked after a while.  
“Do you plan to leave for the forest again, my lady?“  
“Stop calling me that you stupid,“ she exclaimed and pushed him, making him laugh again. “No, I still need to get back Winterfell, remember? But I thought I might visit King's Landing now that I'm no longer captured inside this stinking keep.“  
“Well, the city is not less stinking,“ he said grinning. Then a thought came up. “Would you mind if I join you?“  
Gendry suddenly liked the idea of accompanying her to the city. He might show her around the places where he once used to live.  
Arya's eyebrows rose and she eyed him suspiciously, but soon nodded her agreement.

***

The two of them left the Red Keep just as they had entered it together a moon's turn ago.  
They were walking towards Visenya's Hill and Gendry noticed Arya was opening up to him. She asked him about his past years and he told her about Lady Stoneheart, how he had travelled to the wall and met Jon, how Stannis had legitimised him and how they had fought the others. He told her about his life in Storm's End, his new-found duties and how he was still smithing whenever he found the time to do so.  
In exchange Arya told him a little about Braavos, leaving out the part of her assassin training, although Jon had told him she used to be a member of the Faceless men. In addition she told him about her weeks in the forest together with Nymeria.

When they arrived at the Great Sept of Baelor Arya stopped.  
“Arya?“, Gendry asked her once he noticed her concerned face.  
“It is here where they killed my father,“ she said with a low voice. “I want to see.“  
She took him by his sleeve and led him to the steps of the sept.  
“I was here. The crowd was cheering as my father was kneeling, making a false confession. I'll never forget the grin on Joffrey's face. Sansa was there, too. She was screaming. Yoren wouldn't let me watch. He covered my eyes, but I could hear. I heard when Ilyn Payne raised my father's sword. I heard when his sword hissed through the air. When steel met my father's flesh. I heard when my father's head fell to the ground. I heard Sansa screaming. I heard the people laughing. I heard it all.“  
Arya was trembling and Gendry could not figure a way to console her. Cautiously he put an arm around her shoulders and when he saw she was not fighting him, he pulled her into a full embrace. “He is dead,“ she whispered into his chest as her shoulders were shaking. “Dead.“  
“Arya...“  
“He was a good man and they took his life. They all deserve to die. Cersei must die.“  
Gendry stroke off the hair from her forehead and gingerly placed a kiss on her hairline. She was still not fighting it. “I'm sorry, Arya,“ he breathed. “But you have Jon and Sansa. And you have me. Don't linger in the past.“  
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Arya angrily contorted her face and pushed him away. “What do you know? They didn't kill your father.“  
“They did,“ although Gendry never got to know Robert Baratheon, he realised that Cersei Lannister was responsible for his father's death as well. “It was Robert's foolishness that got him killed, but the wine he had drunk on the day the boar injured him, was poisoned by Cersei.“ Gendry saw Arya regretting her words and was sheepishly looking to the ground. “You have a family, Arya. I never had anyone. My mother died when I was young. My memories of her are only faint. I never had a family as you have. Robert fathered other bastards but I never got to know them.“  
“I'm sorry, Gendry,“ Arya said worrying her lip. “So you have siblings, too?“  
“Yes, a brother, Edric Storm. But I don't know where he is. Ser Davos told me he fled to Essos when the Red Priestess planned to sacrifice him. And a sister, Mya Stone. She lives at the Vale and is a friend of Sansa's.“  
Arya raised her eyebrows in surprise. “A friend of Sansa's? Why didn't you go to her?“  
“She is older than me and I felt bad because I was legitimised and she wasn't. I was afraid she would hate me.“  
“You're stupid, do you know that?“, Arya said irritated.  
Gendry chuckled. “Yes, you've told me that much. I don't know. Perhaps I shall visit her one day.“  
Arya smiled faintly at him and looked thoughtfully to the sept again.  
“My lady, if you're tired we can return to the Red Keep,“ offered Gendry. Arya grimaced and he understood her displeasure. “Would you like me to show you where I used to smith before I was forced to leave the city? It's not far from here.“  
Arya's lips once again formed into a smile and delighted Gendry returned it.

***

The street of steel was busy as ever. The familiar sound of hammers against anvils was audible and the smell of soot was filling the air. The shop of Tobho Mott was at the top of the street coming from Visenya's Hill.  
“This is one of the most expensive shops of King's Landing, isn't it?“, Arya said when they reached the shop. “It's funny the master smith took _you_ in as his apprentice.“  
“Perhaps they realized my talent at a young age,“ Gendry winked at her.  
“Keep telling that to yourself. I think someone knew Robert was your father. That's why you became his apprentice.“  
Gendry sighed disillusioned. “Do you think so?“  
Without waiting for her answer he entered the shop with Arya following behind.  
“Master Tobho,“ Gendry greeted his old master.  
Tobho Mott was busy with hammering a breastplate when he noticed Gendry. His face lit up and he lowered his hammer.  
“Lord Gendry,“ he called out cheerfully. “Came to visit your old master, eh?“  
Gendry rolled his eyes. To Gendry's annoyance Tobho Mott had begun to address him formally after his legitimisation. “I understand why you scold me for calling you lady. It's awful,“ he said to a chuckling Arya.  
“And who would this lovely lady be?“, Tobho asked grinning at Arya.  
“I'm Arya Stark,“ she told him plainly.  
Tobho's eyes widened in recognition. “Welcome to my shop Lady Stark. I knew your father. He was a good man.“  
“Yes, and you melted down Ice. The ancestral sword of House Stark,“ she countered.  
Gendry and Tobho exchanged awkward glances. After Eddard Stark's execution Lord Tywin had Tobho reforge the greatsword into the two swords Widow's Wail and Oathkeeper. Gendry cleared his throat before he spoke. “Master Mott is one of the few who are able to forge Valyrian Steel. Resisting the Lord Lannister's order would have him killed. However, we reforged Ice when we got the two longswords back. Jon holds it now, as you know.“  
Arya simply nodded. Tobho lowered his head and mumbled a few apologies.  
“I came to show the Lady Arya the shop. I would like to forge something for her,“ Gendry smiled at Arya. “You don't have an armour. I shall make you a battle maiden armour.“  
“A battle maiden armour? There is such a thing?“, Arya laughed.  
“Yes,“ Gendry grinned. He had thought out the idea of an armour for Arya back in Storm's End. “A light armour built for your figure. You will need it, when we leave for Winterfell. Don't worry, you'll still be able to move quickly but you will be safer, too. I need your measurements though.“

 

Gendry had begun working on Arya's armour while Tobho was telling her stories from Gendry's childhood. Embarrassed Gendry had begged him to stop, but seeing Arya laughing so carefree comforted him and he had let it go eventually. After a few hours Tobho told them he had to work on his other orders, and thus Gendry and Arya bid the older man goodbye and exited the shop. Gendry would return the next day to continue his work on Arya's armour.

Arya had explained that she was still not eager to return to the Red Keep and the two had decided to visit the harbour.  
Arya told him that back in Braavos she had liked spending her time at the harbour. She had come to like the sea and Gendry asked himself if she would like Shipbreaker's Bay as well.  
They were standing next to each other in companionable silence looking down at Blackwater Rush entering Blackwater Bay. It was late afternoon and a chilly wind was blowing along the harbour. Seagulls were screaming and the intense smell of fresh fish was filling their noses.  
“Would you like to come with me to Storm's End?“, Gendry asked her after a while.  
She slightly turned her head to look at him. A stubborn frown creasing her forehead. “What do you mean?“  
“I was just wondering whether you'd like to come with me. I could show you the Stormlands and Shipbreaker's Bay. We could also visit Dragone Stone. I believe my cousin the Lady Shireen Baratheon and you would get along well together. She's a smart woman.“  
It took a long while before Arya replied and Gendry began to feel anxious.  
“I don't know,“ she finally said. “I might visit you one day. But first I need to return to Winterfell.“  
Gendry nodded, feeling disappointed.  
She would leave him, but it was right. It saddened him, but it was the way it should be. At least she would be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it is lame that after 5 years it occured to Dany and Jon that they should get rid of the Freys and the Boltons. I did this mainly because I needed to skip some years, to make the characters older and to leave them for Arya to finish them all.
> 
> Also I realised I forgot to legitimise Mya Stone... Have to pack that in somewhere
> 
> Thank you all for reading.


	7. The Wolf of the North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the feedback, kudos and subscriptions!
> 
> This chapter contains explicit language

Word from Winterfell had arrived and as expected Ramsay Bolton was refusing to leave Winterfell. In his letter he had declared himself as the true Lord of Winterfell, married to Lady Arya Stark, calling the true Arya Stark an impostor.  
Arya had laughed menacingly when the news had reached her and soon together with Gendry and one hundred men she was marching towards her old home.

 

She was wearing the armour Gendry had made for her. It consisted of a breastplate, faulds, spaulders, couters, gauntlets and boots that reached to her knees. The mail was thinner and lighter than a man's armour and underneath she was wearing leather that allowed her to stay flexible enough.  
Although Gendry had suggested to make her a helmet as well, Arya had declined, saying it would only obstruct her vision and ultimately cause more harm than not wearing one.  
The armour and the leather had a dark grey, almost black, colour and they were embroidered with fine golden ornaments. Black and gold. Arya had rolled her eyes at Gendry when she realised they were the Baratheon colours but he had only grinned and told her he had chosen the colours to signify his work.  
Nevertheless she had gratefully accepted his gift. The filigree work impressed her. It was beautiful with all its accurate details. Gendry really was a talented craftsman and she felt humbled by his present. Together with Needle it was the most remarkable object she had ever received.

 

After Gendry had taken Arya out to King's Landing she had begun to spend more time with him and she realised a friendship was growing between them. Although at first she had been resentful of him for abandoning her for the brotherhood, she soon began to feel more at ease around him. She liked teasing him and she liked talking to him. He sometimes reminded her of Jon with whom he shared similarities since both grew up as bastards. And although both men were leading the life of a highborn they had remained humble and modest, for which Arya appreciated them.

As they started their ride to the north Arya would seek Gendry's company to talk to him about her childhood in Winterfell.  
She told him about the ancient gods the northerners were worshipping and about the invigorating cold of the north. She told him about the deep green of the forests, about the snowy mountains. She told him about the First Men and about the stories old nan used to tell her. She told him about Winterfell, about the hot springs it was built on and how they had found the direwolves. She told him about her brothers and how she would rather practise archery than needle work. She told him about her fights with Sansa, about how her mother would always reprimand her and she told him about her father. Her father who had loved her so deeply.  
Gendry would listen to her attentively, asking her questions and she would anser them enthusiastically.  
Finally she would return home and she was looking forward to show it all to Gendry.  
Nevertheless her anticipation was marred with grief. Knowing she would return home filled her with a certain yearning that could never be satisfied. She felt the melancholy of the irrevocable loss. Home would never be the same again. Her brothers would never return. She would never ride out with them in the wolfswood again. Her mother would never reprimand her again. And her father would never console her again. She would never hear his voice or feel his embrace again.  
She would return home, but she would never be Arya Stark, the wild child, again. 

 

***

 

On their first night they made camp south of Maidenpool. As long as the cold would allow it they would sleep outside. Their number was too large for the amount of coin they would have to spend for an inn. 

Most of the men had already gone to sleep but Arya and Gendry were still awake, sitting by the campfire. They sat next to each other, each with a fur around their shoulders. Only the crackling of fire and the hooting of an owl were disturbing their silence.  
Arya studied Gendry's face. His long dark lashes were casting shadows on his cheeks. His eyes, the colour of blue ice, were glowing with the fire. She bit her lower lip when she realised how appealing she thought his face was.  
“Do you remember Acorn Hall?“, Gendry asked her after a while.  
Arya thought back at the evening they had spent inside the keep and chuckled. “When I wore that horrible dress?“  
Gendry grinned sheepishly. “Yes. I liked that dress.“  
“Liar,“ she said with a mocking glare. “So far as I recall you had made fun of me.“  
“I did not. I even told you you smelled nice,“ Gendry said crossing his arms. “For a change,“ he added.  
Arya laughed and pushed him without force, causing Gendry to respond to her laughter.  
“I liked the song Tom Sevenstrings had played that night,“ he said.  
Arya smiled at the faint memory. She noticed Gendry moving nearer and felt his fingertips carefully touching the back of her hand. When she did not pull away from the contact, he placed her hand in his, entwining their fingers. At first Arya tensed and thought of backing away, but soon she found the touch soothing and comforting.  
“Do you think it's fate we met each other?“, he asked her with a sudden earnestness.  
Arya gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?“  
“My father was once betrothed to your aunt. And of all people it was I who met you. We both are said to resemble them. And your father and my father were good friends. Doesn't it look like fate wanted us to meet?“, Arya wondered if it was the fire that made Gendry's cheeks look so colourful.  
“You are talking nonsense, idiot.“  
Gendry furrowed his brows and stared back at the fire. When he turned to look at Arya again, she was frowning deeply at him.  
“What's it?“, he asked her.  
“This is how you always look like. With that stubborn frown on your stupid face,“ she said and frowned even more. Offended, Gendry mirrored her expression and Arya guffawed.  
“See. This is exactly what I mean.“  
“I'm glad my face serves to m'lady's amusement.“  
“Stop it, you stupid,“ she said, bumping her shoulder into his.  
Gendry tightened the grip on her hand and gave her a serious look. Irritated Arya turned her face away.  
“Whatever it may be, I'm happy you're back. I never believed you died, but I feared I'd never see you again. When you left, I lost myself. I was full of hate, full of wrath and despair. I only fought for you. For you to have a safe home to return. It was the only hope that was keeping me alive. That one day I'd see you again, Arya.“  
“Gendry...“, Arya whispered.  
Gendry used his free hand to turn her face to him again. His eyes were staring into hers and Arya thought she recognised pain and longing inside them. He licked his lips as he started to gently carress her cheek.  
“I thought I'd only need to see you once more. To know you are well. Then I'd not care if I'd die or live to see another day. But being here with you makes me want to live forever.“  
“Gendry, you're talking silly,“ Arya said feeling suddenly uncomfortable.  
Gendry placed his hand on the back of Arya's neck and pulled her face towards his until their lips met. Arya's eyes widened in surprise and she pushed him away.  
“I'm sorry, Arya“, he stumbled. “I got carried away.“  
Arya hurriedly stood up and stamped off to her sleeping place.

 

She covered herself with the thick furs and squinched her eyes shut, hoping she would drop off to sleep quickly.  
The image of Gendry's face would not leave her mind. His impudence infuriated her and she was on the verge of getting up to hit him for it.  
She tossed and turned for a while before she gave up and walked over to where he was lying.  
“Arya, I'm...“, Gendry began as he saw Arya approaching but she did not let him finish speaking. Instead she knelt down, grabbed the fabric of his tunic and crashed her lips on to his.  
Where Gendry's kiss was subtle, chaste and delicate, Arya's kiss was demanding, fervent and wild.  
She broke their kiss again and panting the two were staring at each other.  
Gendry cupped her face and Arya leant down to kiss him again. A moan escaped Arya's mouth and she felt Gendry's tongue on her lips. She bid him entrace and his tongue met hers. The sensation of their touching tongues felt weird and yet thrilling. Gendry pulled her towards him and he pressed her body against his, while their hands got entangled in each others hair. Arya whimpered as she felt a heat growing inside her belly, wandering down to the place between her legs. She pressed her thighs together to shed the feeling, but it only increased when Gendry's hands hectically wandered along her back and her thighs.  
They continued their kissing, until both grew tired and fell asleep in each others arms.

 

***

 

When Arya woke up the next morning she felt strong arms encasing her. She recalled last night's events and turned her head to look at Gendry's sleeping face. He looked serene and the ghost of a smile was on his lips.  
Last night she had wanted this. She had indulged herself into his arms as she was relishing his kisses. But now, sobered up from the sleep, she felt confused. She was not embarrassed. Gendry was familiar and she even felt attracted to him, but she had never asked for this. She only wanted vengeance and Winterfell to belong to the Starks again. Not some lord kissing her.  
Arya sighed as she realised that Gendry was probably in love with her. She cursed herself for her own ignorance. Every fool could have guessed his feelings for her.  
As she moved to free herself from his embrace his arms tightened around her and she heard him mumble unintelligible words. She felt something pressing against her bottom. At that Arya groaned and got up, indifferent of waking Gendry.  
His eyes flew upon and he propped himself up on his elbows. He must have noticed his errection, because soon Gendry was blushing furiously.  
Arya huffed and got ready for the day.

 

A few hours into the day Nymeria found them. Overjoyed Arya jumped from her horse to embrace the trustworthy direwolf. She disregarded her horse and continued on Nymeria's back, telling her how much she had missed her and how happy she was that they would get Winterfell back together.  
Elated by the return of her direwolf Arya decided to make their next stop at the Crossroads Inn which was lying on their way.  
After last night's occurrence Arya had avoided any conversation with Gendry, exchanging only necessities. She sensed that Gendry was feeling awkward as well. However, when she revealed to him, that they would visit Jeyne and Willow he exchanged his sullen look with a delighted one.

 

They reached the inn at evenfall. The majority of the group still had to make camp outside, since the inn lacked space for all of them. At least they would go to sleep with a warm meal in their belly.  
“Lady Arya,“ Jeyne called out as Arya entered the inn. Then Jeyne spotted Gendry behind Arya and her face lit up. “Gendry,“ she exclaimed.  
“ _Gendry,_ “ the younger one named Willow squealed and bolted towards Gendry. She flung her arms around him and the two began to laugh.  
Soon several children and the two women were surrounding Gendry, chattering to him excitedly. Arya felt like an intruder watching them.  
Eventually she cleared her throat to get their attention. “We're here with about a hundred men. I know you don't have enough room for us all, but I was hoping we could have a meal for the evening. Is it possible?“ Arya saw the colour draining from Jeyne's face. “We will pay you of course,“ Arya added.  
“I don't think we have enough food for a hundred men,“ she stammered. “We have soup, bred and some pie.“  
“We have enough supplies,“ Gendry assured her. “Give us what you're able to spare. But make sure you have enough for yourselves.“  
Jeyne nodded and turned to Arya again. “I'm sorry m'lady.“  
“Don't worry,“ Arya replied absentmindedly.

 

The food did not even suffice for thirty men and Arya had to promise her men, that they would soon be fed decently. However the men appeared to be in a jovial mood, as they were gathered around the fire and were chanting songs.  
Arya left Nymeria with them and went back inside the inn, to find Gendry engrossed in a conversation with Jeyne and Willow.  
She noticed the way Jeyne was glancing at the man, touching his upper arm ever so often, smiling broadly at any stupid thing he was telling them. Arya gritted her teeth and thought about smacking the woman.  
As Gendry saw Arya approaching he called her over.  
“So Jeyne, Arya told me you've already met her?“  
Arya joined their table and saw Jeyne smiling nervously at her. “Yes, she came here a few moon's turns ago.“  
“I went here the day I returned from Braavos. I thought I might find you here.“  
Gendry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You came looking for me?“  
“I did. Only to be told that you're a lord now.“ Gendry rolled his eyes and Arya responded with a chuckle.  
“So you plan to take Winterfell back?“, Willow interrupted the two.  
“Yes,“ Arya told her with an evil grin. “About time Ramsay Bolton meets the real Arya Stark.“  
“I'd love to see Winterfell,“ Willow said sounding wistfully. “I wish I could come with you. Will you stay there for good?“  
“Yes. You can come visit me if you want.“ Arya noticed Gendry's expression darkening for a moment.  
“What about you, Gendry?“, Jeyne asked.  
“I will return to Storm's End,“ he replied to Jeyne with a flat voice.  
Jeyne nodded. “I see.“  
“Will you show me your old forge, Gendry?“, Gendry once again turned his attention to Arya. “I want to see where you were living while I was in Braavos.“  
“Of course,“ he smiled and wished the two girls a good night.

 

Gendry led Arya to a small building behind the inn. The door was unlocked and they entered the empty smithy.  
“I haven't been here for years,“ Gendry said while looking around. “Didn't remember it so small.“  
“How long did you live here?“, Arya asked as she ran her fingers over the dusty workbench.  
“About two years. I left the brotherhood because of Lady Stoneheart, but I wasn't happy here either. But I've already told you that.“  
Arya thought of Lady Stoneheart who was not far from them and shuddered at the memory of her.  
“She's in love with you, do you know that?“, she said after a while.  
“Who? Jeyne?“  
Arya's eyebrows shot up. “You knew?“  
“I figured,“ Gendry shrugged.  
“Did you fuck her?“  
Gendry stared at her horrified. “What?“  
“I asked if you fucked her.“  
“I did not.“  
Arya tried to ignore the sudden feeling of relief that was washing over her. “Why not?“  
Gendry clenched his jaw and Arya understood that he was refusing to give her an answer.  
“I'm happy you're doing this with me, Gendry,“ Arya then said in a more amiable manner. “I'm happy I can show you Winterfell. Thank you for coming with me,“ she gave him a genuine smile. “Have a good night.“  
“Good night, Arry.“

***

 

They reached the Neck within another fortnight.  
East of the King's Road, in the swamps of the Neck, Greywater Watch was located. House Reed had been loyal to the Starks for thousands of years and Lord Howland Reed had been one of Eddard Stark's closest companions.  
It was a cold and rainy evening and Arya wished she could lead the men to Greywater Watch to stay the night and to assemble their forces, but she knew the floating castle was impossible even for ravens to find.  
“The crannogmen live here,“ she told Gendry when they stopped to look for a place to set up their camp. “They live in the swamps of the Neck and they feed on frogs.“ At the mention of eating frogs Gendry contorted his face and Arya sniggered. “House Reed has sworn fealty to my House thousands of years ago. My father trusted the crannogmen. However I don't know where to find them. Their houses are built upon crannogs that are floating in the swamps.“  
Gendry seemed impressed. “I'd like to see these floating houses one day.“

 

Not much later a group of men appeared from between the trees, startling Arya and the soldiers. The unknown men were small and armed with spears. Alarmed Arya commanded the men to take up their arms.  
“We're not here to fight you, Lady Arya,“ one of the strange men said. “We came to take you to our lord.“  
Immediately Arya's face lit up. “You are the crannogmen. You found us. But how did you know?“  
“The crannogmen can see, Lady Arya. Now come with us. Lord Reed is awaiting you.“  
Arya's army broke their camp again and they set up for the east. 

 

The forest was dark and befogged, thus Arya was not able to memorise the way. The crannogmen on the other hand followed the path with surprising ease and soon Arya was looking at a torch-lit village floating on the dark swamp.  
The houses were built of reed and thatch and they stood upon wooden crannogs. The biggest of the houses was located in the center of the village.  
“Lady Stark,“ a small hooded man greeted them at the entrance to the village. “Welcome to Greywater Watch. I am Howland Reed.“  
“Thank you, Lord Reed,“ Arya replied. “I know you were my father's closest friend, so I hope we can trust you.“  
Lord Reed took of his hood and gave Arya a sad smile. “Eddard, a good man he was. But allow me the question,“ he said looking to Gendry who was standing behind Arya. “Who are you lad? It's like the young Robert Baratheon is standing in front of me.“  
“I'm Gendry Baratheon, my lord. Robert Baratheon was my father.“  
Lord Reed nodded and looked back to Arya. “You can trust us, Lady Arya. House Reed was ever loyal to the Starks. Let your men stay the night. Let them eat and let them sleep dry and warm. I would also like to speak with you later, Lady Arya.“  
Arya nodded and they began to arrange the accommodations for the night. After being fed with fish and ale the men were in high spirits and Arya went inside Howland Reed's castle where she would spend the night.

 

“You wanted to talk to me?“, Arya approached Lord Reed who was waiting for her in his hall.  
“Yes, please have a seat, dear Lady Stark.“  
Arya sat on the dining table opposite of the lord, patting Nymeria's head who had followed her behind. A woman brought her a rich plate of fish and cooked turnips and a cup of ale.  
“The North loathes Bolton having his seat in Winterfell,“ Lord Reed began. “We had hoped the queen would give the seat back to the Starks sooner.“  
“Me too. But I returned to Westeros only recently,“ Arya explained between bites. “Well, now that I've returned I will see that justice is done.“  
“You killed Walder Frey, didn't you?“, the older man asked her.  
Arya stopped chewing on her fish and eyed Howland Reed before she decided to speak. “Yes. I killed the bastard. And I enjoyed every bit of it.“  
She saw Lord Reed nodding. “The crannogmen had a feud with the Freys. I can't say I don't feel glad you killed him. I was appalled when I heard what happened to your mother and your brother, the King in the North.“  
Arya took a gulp of her ale. “I'm beginning to understand why my father liked you, Lord Reed.“  
Howland Reed gave a deep throaty laugh. “And I'm beginning to see that Arya Stark is a true wolf of the north.“ She grinned and continued with her meal. “I shall have some of my crannogmen sent with you, Lady Arya. We are no great warriors, but you might need help on your way to Winterfell. Not everybody is your friend here. There are enemies at Moat Cailin and Ramsay has become wary since the queen wants him to leave Winterfell. House Manderly and House Cerwyn are still loyal to you, therefore I advise you to go to New Castle in White Harbor and to Castle Cerwyn to gather more men.“  
For the first time Arya felt she had arrived home. Having Howland Reed offering her help, made her feel proud of the North and the Northmen. “I gladly accept your offer. Thank you, my lord.“  
“One more thing, Lady Arya,“ Howland Reed said with an unreadable expression. “You must have heard of Theon Greyjoy and the Iron Men besieging Winterfell before Ramsay did.“  
“Yes. He killed my brothers and a large part of my father's household.“  
“My children Jojen and Meera were in Winterfell at the time.“  
“I'm sorry to hear that,“ Hearing that Theon Greyjoy was responsible for the death of those children as well, filled Arya with anger and hate again. Theon had grown up with them. He was Robb's friend and her father's ward. How could he kill Bran and Rickon and the Reed children?  
“Don't be. They managed to escape. Jojen and Meera went with Bran north of the wall. I believe your youngest brother escaped as well, although I don't know where he went.“  
Arya's mouth fell agape. “What? They're alive?“  
“I believe so. However, I haven't seen them for years and I hope they will return when the North is free again.“  
“Did you hear this Nymeria?“, Arya called out and got up from her chair to fling her arms around the direwolf. “They live. Bran and Rickon live. And Summer and Shaggydog, too.“  
Nymeria barked and Arya laughed sincerely as tears of joy were forming in her eyes.  
“Please, Lady Arya. I don't want to raise false hopes.“  
“They live,“ Arya exclaimed as the direwolf was licking her face.

 

***

 

After hearing of her brothers Arya had gone to Gendry to share the news with him. He had been happy for her and had even pulled her into an embrace. So the next morning Arya left the Neck with an additional fifty men and with a new confidence.  
As Howland Reed had avised her they went to House Manderly at New Castle next. Lord Manderly had received them as kindly as Lord Reed and another hundred men left with them from White Harbor. By the time Arya left Castle Cerwyn the number of her army had tripled.

They reached the winter town of Winterfell without casualties. The once lively town was like a morgue. The streets and the houses were covered with snow and an eery silence prevailed the market square. There was not a single man to be seen.  
Spurred by hatred and wrath Arya descended Nymeria and faced the army behind her. “I am Arya Stark of Winterfell,“ she began to shout in their direction. “The Starks descend from Bran the Builder. They are descendants of the First Men and they were Kings of Winter for thousands of years. My House held Winterfell for thousands of years. Our sigil is the direwolf and I have a direwolf to fight alongside me. Today I shall fight to avenge my home. I shall fight to reclaim what rightfully belongs to my House. I ask you, will you fight with me?“  
The men cheered and yelled. Arya saw Ramsay's man forming on the walls of the great main gate, fear and unease on their faces.  
“ _Stark!_ “, Arya's men were shouting.  
“ _Winterfell!_ “  
“ _Queen of the North!_ “  
“ _Long live the North!_ “  
“Together we shall clean Winterfell of the traitors,“ Arya continued. “We shall drink and we shall feast over their dead bodies.“  
The men were cheering even louder and Arya commanded them to get ready. The archers drew their bows and the swordsmen raised their swords and shields.  
Arya approached the main gate with Gendry and Nymeria close behind.  
“Where is your false lord?“, she called out to the men on top of the wall. “Open the drawbridge and let us in. You won't be harmed if you yield. You have my word.“  
The men exchanged uncertain glances but did not move otherwise. Moments later an ugly, fleshy men appeared on the wall. He had long dark hair and a cruel grin. His fine armour distinguished him from the other men.  
“Ah, my bride,“ his wet and meaty lips formed into a smile and Arya saw his piggy eyes glistening with desire. “I wonder if you're as feisty in bed.“  
Arya could hear Gendry growl beside her.  
“Open the gate you son of a whore,“ she yelled.  
Ramsay Bolton paid her no mind and turned to his men instead. “Is the pup scaring you? Remember, barking dogs do not bite.“  
“I'll slit your throat you bloody bastard,“ before Arya could finish her threat, she heard the drawbridge opening.  
“Who did this?“, Ramsay screamed. “Close the gate or I will have you killed.“  
Arya did not waste any time and commanded her men to pass the bridge. Soon they were streaming into the courtyard.  
The fighting began in an instance. Arya realised the resistance was not great. Ramsay's men must have been either quite intimidated or disloyal to shy away from the fight.  
She noticed a dark-haired woman with a haunted face staring back at her from the other side of the courtyard. Arya recognised her as Jeyne Poole, the daughter of her father's steward. She gasped as it dawned on her, who it was that was posing as herself. Jeyne Poole, Sansa's friend. The girl who had made fun of her and used to call her Arya Horseface and Arya Underfoot.  
Then Arya got distracted by the barking of dogs. She turned around to see a pack of vicious looking dogs attacking her men. Nymeria was already mauling one of the black feral beasts when Arya caught sight of a retreating Ramsay Bolton.  
_No, no, no. You won't escape_ , she thought. When she assured herself that her men were still outnumbering Ramsay's she followed Ramsay into the Great Keep.

 

“Where do you think you're going, you pig?“, Arya snarled at the fleeing Ramsay. She had reached him in a narrow hallway. As Ramsay turned around to face her, she saw a smirk plastered on his ugly face.  
“Oh, good. The little bitch. Now I have you where I want you,“ he licked his lips while he approached her. “You should've been mine for years. How do they say? Soon ripe, soon rotten.“  
“I will kill you, Ramsay Snow,“ Arya spat at him menacingly, going into a fighting stance.  
“Where is the fun in that?“, he said and began to strike his sword at her but Arya dodged the blows easily.  
“I will fuck you,“ Ramsay said. “I will rip those clothes off of you and I will fuck every opening of yours.“  
Arya was quicker than him, but Ramsay was stronger. He was in full armour and she realized she had to be precise with her strikes. She had a small advantage thanks to her left-handedness therefore giving Ramsay a difficulty to estimate her attacks. Even so, he parried Needle's blows without giving Arya a chance to get near to his body.  
“Come and get me,“ Arya told him with a sardonic smile. “You fat bastard are too slow.“  
“Oh, I will get you, bitch,“ he was still grinning as he swung his blade at her. Arya jumped back, only to realize she was nearing the wall behind her. She tried to hide the nervousness that was befalling her. “I will get you and when I finished fucking you, I will skin you while you're begging me for mercy. And then I will fuck you again.“  
Arya had to get to the opposite side before she would reach the dead end. She sprinted towards Ramsay, took a leap as soon as she was next to him and spun around. She used the moment of surprise to slash at him, slicing the unprotected back of his neck. The blade met bone, but it was not a deep cut.  
Ramsay cursed as he touched his wound. “You whore,“ he screamed out and stroke a forceful blow at her.  
Arya jumped back but she was a split second too slow. His sword met her left thigh, slitting up the leather and her flesh. Arya cried out in pain and fell over. She felt the blood flowing from the wound, running down her leg into her boot, dripping on the ground. She stared at Ramsay who was about to take the next swing at her. Her eyes widened in panic as she realised she would not be able to avoid this blow. _I will not survive this_ , she thought. _I will die and I couldn't avenge Winterfell_.  
She heard a terrifying bark followed by the angry growl of a dog. From the familiarity of the sound she realised it was not coming from Ramsay's dogs. Ramsay turned around to find Nymeria running towards him. Her teeth were bared and her golden eyes were imbued with hatred.  
Nymeria knocked the panick-stricken Ramsay over.  
“Stop,“ Arya shouted, before Nymeria could gnaw off Ramsay's face. She got up, cringing from the pain as she stood on her injured leg. She limped to them and patted Nymeria's head. “Good girl. You saved me.“  
When she looked at Ramsay her expression turned serious again. “You did it like this, didn't you? You set your loathsome dogs on others. But don't worry, I won't let this happen.“ Ramsay dared to smile and sighed in relief. “Because I will kill you myself. Valar morghulis.“  
Once again Ramsay's eyes shot open in fear and he opened his mouth to speak, but Arya pierced the opening with Needle. She heard the steel penetrating his pharynx, cutting through flesh and bones until it met the wooden ground. Ramsay was choking on his own blood, his eyes rolled backwards and his body went limp.  
When Arya saw him taking his last breath she collapsed to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did a little research about female armour in the Middle Ages. When I realised the women were either wearing men's armour or no armour at all I thought "screw this, this is fantasy" and kinda came up with my own. Arya's armour looks feminine, but not like this MMORPG armour thingy that would have her killed. I began to draw it for you, but I messed up with the colouring and threw it away in an act of desperation.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much!


	8. The Regret of a Lord

The battle of Winterfell was everything but a fair fight. Ramsay's men were quickly succumbing to the army Arya had gathered since her men were outweighing them in numbers and in determination.  
The enemy men were perishing one by one while battle cries to the North were drowning the sound of clashing steel and the slicing of flesh.  
Gendry was wielding his warhammer, breaking bones and smashing skulls. He hit one of Ramsay's man in the temple and as the man was falling to his knees Gendry saw Arya running towards the Great Keep. She was following the retreating Ramsay Bolton.  
“Arya,“ he yelled after her. “Arya, come back here.“ Arya was not hearing him.  
The stupid girl would try to kill him herself. He attempted to pursue her, but found himself surrounded by a handful of Ramsay's men  
Behind him Gendry heard Nymeria, who was killing the last of Ramsay's black ugly beasts, barking and yelping.  
“Nymeria,“ Gendry shouted, hoping the direwolf would understand him. “Go and find Arya.“  
The direwolf tore out the throat of Ramsay's dog and howled. The next moment she was running in the direction Arya had gone.  
In front of Gendry another opponent raised his sword to hit him, but Gendry, who was superior in both height and strength, tackled him and threw the other man off balance. Before the man could react, Gendry had already smashed his ugly face. Leaving nothing but a pulp of flesh and bone and blood.  
As the last enemy was brought down the men began to cheer.  
“ _Winterfell!_ “  
“ _Winter is coming for you Ramsay!_ “  
“ _Long live the North!_ “

 

Hastily Gendry rushed towards the Great Keep where Arya had run off to. He entered the stronghold but neither Arya nor Nymeria were to be seen.  
“Arya,“ he shouted anxiously. “Where are you?“  
He continued to call for her, searching every room he passed. After a while he heard the barking of Nymeria and he followed her call.  
Inside a hallway on the first floor he found an unmoving Ramsay with Needle sticking out of his mouth. Next to him he saw Nymeria cowering over Arya, who was lying on her back with her left leg bent up.  
“Arya!“, he cried out and hurried to her. She had a gash on her left thigh and she was losing blood. She was breathing shallow and rapid but she was conscious. “Oh no. No, no, Arya. You stubborn, stupid woman.“  
He said a quick prayer to R'hllor, to the Seven, to the old gods and to whoever might hear him that her injury would not be serious enough for her life to be in danger. He could not lose her. Not now. Not ever.  
Gently he put her head into the crook of his arm.  
“Gendry?“, Arya croaked.  
“Thank the gods,“ he said, relieved that she was still able to speak. “Have you gone mad, Arya?“  
“Is he dead?“  
“He is. Winterfell is free. His men were defeated.“  
Arya nodded and smiled weakly. “Good. Winter has come,“ she whispered before she passed out.  
Gendry scooped her up into his arms and rushed back down to the courtyard.

 

Outside the men were still rejoicing, among them the residents of Winterfell had clustered.  
“Fetch the maester. Quick!“, Gendry bellowed several times, before the crowd noticed him. When the men saw the unconscious Arya in Gendry's arms a bedlam broke loose. A few moments later a young looking maester came forward.  
“She's injured,“ Gendry said, his voice sounded almost pleadingly.  
“She lost some blood,“ the young man said as he was examining Arya's slash. “The wound needs to be cleaned and stitched up. Follow me, quick.“  
The young maester went back to the Great Keep and entered the nearest chamber, where he ordered Gendry to lay Arya down on the bed.  
“We need to remove her armour,“ Gendry felt himself blushing at the maester's words. The man noticed Gendry's hesitation and shot him an irritated glance. “I can't treat her wound otherwise.“  
Together they began to take off Arya's armour, starting with the breastplate and the other metal parts. Gendry hoped Nymeria, who had followed them, would not attack the two while they were undressing her master, but the direwolf seemed to comprehend. Sometimes Gendry thought the direwolf had even more insight than he had.  
Lastly they removed her tightly fitting leather breeches to expose Arya's long and toned legs. Gendry bit his lip and tried to look somewhere else. He felt he was betraying Arya, looking at her bare skin without her permission.  
Inspecting the cut in the leather Gendry cursed himself. He should have made her entire armour of steel.  
“Will she recover?“, Gendry nervously asked the maester who was dipping a cloth into a clear and acrid smelling fluid.  
“The cut is not too deep, thanks to the leather she was wearing,“ the maester replied and carefully wiped the wound with the cloth. Gendry saw Arya grimacing. “She lost blood, is all. She needs to rest. Probably for a few days.“ The young maester pulled out a small bottle with a white liquid and brought it to Arya's lips. “Milk of the poppy,“ he informed Gendry who was eyeing the man warily. “I didn't let her drink much. Only enough for her to sleep while I can stitch the wound.“  
Gendry nodded. “Thank you, maester... I'm sorry, I never asked for your name.“  
“Henly,“ the young man answered as he drew an animal tendon through a needle. He dampened the needle and the tendon with the smelling fluid before he pricked Arya's flesh.  
“Before Roose Bolton brought me here, I was in the service of Lord Slate. I decided to stay here, but the other two maesters that were brought with me have left again.“  
“Are you loyal to House Bolton?“, asked Gendry.  
“I'm loyal to whoever needs the service of a maester,“ Henly smiled to himself. “But if you want to know about the loyalty of Henly as a person and not as a maester, then I shall tell you I am loyal to the North. And the Bolton's have betrayed the North.“  
Gendry nodded, content with Maester Henly's reply. “I'm Gendry Baratheon.“  
He watched the maester skilfully putting stitches into Arya's wound, slowly closing the cut.  
“She's quite a brave one, isn't she?“ Maester Henly said when he finished his work and wiped the stitches with the cloth again. Gendry smiled proudly as he looked at Arya. Brave she was. But reckless, too. “Is she your betrothed?“  
“What?“, Gendry exclaimed startled by the question. “No, she's not. Your Grace, the Queen Daenerys has sent me to help her recapturing Winterfell.“  
Maester Henly raised his brows, seemingly unconvinced. Gendry scowled at him and the maester shrugged. “Anyway. Winterfell will be grateful to you. The Starks have returned.“  
He went back to Arya and removed the rest of her armour, leaving her only in her smallclothes. Gendry took in a sharp breath and started stammering.  
“She can't sleep in her armour,“ Henly told Gendry annoyed and covered Arya with a blanket. Nymeria hopped on the bed and positioned herself next to her master. The direwolf was no more a pup, and she was occupying most of the bed. Nevertheless Gendry knew better than to try to seperate her from Arya.  
“She's going to wake up soon, so you can stay here if you want.“  
“Yes, thank you. Tell the men they'll be fed soon,“ Gendry went around the bed and sat on a stool on Arya's bedside.  
He saw the young maester smiling as he was gathering up his belongings. “The wound needs to be cleaned every few hours. I shall leave you alone then.“

 

Not long after Maester Henly had left, Arya began to stir and soon she opened her eyes to look at him.  
“Gendry?“, she said softly.  
He felt his stomach flip as he heard her uttering his name. He was overjoyed now that he knew, she would recover. For a moment he had been scared to death.  
“I'm here,“ he told her whisperingly. “It's alright.“  
She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them with her fingers. Nymeria huddled against her side. “Where am I?“  
“We're in Winterfell.“  
Arya sighed. “I know that, stupid. I mean what is this room.“  
Gendry realised he had never felt more happy to be insulted by her. “I don't know,“ he told her while looking around in the chamber. It was a small room without a window, furnished only with a wooden chest, the rather large bed, a table and two stools. The floor was covered with furs and there was also a small fireplace.  
“We brought you to the next room with a bed. You hurt your leg. But it's not that bad. You'll get better soon. It had to be stitched though.“  
“I can feel that. It fucking burns,“ Gendry chuckled and he saw Arya smiling back at him. “So we seized Winterfell?“  
He gave her a lopsided smile and nodded. “We defeated Ramsay's men easily and obviously you killed Ramsay. We'll have a raven sent out to inform the queen and soon Sansa will come, too.“ Gendry saw Arya searching for his hand. He stretched his palm out so she could place her small hand into his. “I need to go back to the men. But we'll wait for your recovery before we're having that feast you promised.“  
“Thank you,“ she whispered. “Thank you for coming with me.“  
“Of course, Arya. I'd follow you everywhere.“  
She squeezed his hand before she entwined their fingers. “Can you stay? For a little while. Stay with me.“  
“I'm staying. But you might want to sleep. The maester gave you milk of the poppy.“  
Arya shook her head no, but her eyes were already closing. Soon she was breathing steadily and a soft snoring indicated she had fallen asleep. For a while Gendry watched her peaceful sleeping face until he carefully let go of her hand and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

 

Gendry left Arya to sleep and returned to the courtyard. He found concerned faces staring back at him and he assured the crowd that Arya would recover soon.  
Now that he had calmed down he noticed his stomach was growling. But before he and the men could eat and rest, the bodies had to be removed from Winterfell.  
Gendry ordered the dead to be gathered outside the castle's walls. About two hundred men had died and it was impossible to bury them all, much less leave them to rot.  
They built a large pyre, piled up the bodies with Ramsay atop and burned them. Black smoke and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Winterfell was purified.

***

The next morning Gendry found Arya breaking her fast together with a few men. She was talking to another girl with dark hair. The tip of the girl's nose was missing, her face was pale and she seemed frightened, hiding beneath her brown cloak.  
“Are you up already, m'lady?“, Gendry asked as he reached the table. “Shouldn't you rest?“  
“I did. Now I have to clean up this place,“ Arya said, chewing the crust of her bread.  
He saw the other girl wincing as he sat down next to Arya.  
“This is Jeyne Poole,“ Arya explained. “She's Sansa's best friend. And this stupid here,“ she said pointing to Gendry. “Is Gendry. He's my friend.“  
_Friend, huh?_ , Gendry thought. “Charming as always, m'lady,“  
Arya winked at him and took a sip of her hot diluted wine. Her meal was meagre. Because of the winter and Ramsay's lack of ties to other houses the nourishments in Winterfell were scanty. They had ale, wine, bread, meat and some vegetables, but there was no milk or cheese or other luxuries to be found.  
Gendry took the slice of brown bread Arya offered him. “So, how do you feel being back in Winterfell?“  
“It looks like shit,“ Arya said with a huff. “Seeing what Ramsay did to this place makes me want to kill him again. Too bad he died a quick death. Should've flayed the prick alive.“  
Gendry did not like the way Arya was talking about killing. She had killed her first men at a very young age and the war had stained the innocence of all of them. Yet, Gendry never had liked killing others. Even if the other one deserved death, he felt he was losing a part of himself everytime he took another life. Whereas Arya was talking about it as if killing was natural to her. He hoped a part of her innocence would return to her one day, although Gendry doubted it.  
“I was wondering,“ Arya continued. “If you'd like me to show you around?“  
In spite of himself Gendry felt the corners of his mouth form into a smile. “I'd love that, m'lady.“  
He saw the girl named Jeyne Poole looking at both of them uneasily. She then excused herself and left the Great Hall. Arya's expression darkened.  
“What's with her?“, Gendry asked.  
“Jeyne was the one who was posing as me.“  
Gendry perked his eyebrows up at the realisation. “Oh.“  
“Exactly. She had fled with Theon Greyjoy to the wall, were Stannis kept them as prisoners. He released Jeyne when he found out that she was of no use to him. Ramsay's men found her and she was brought back to him.“  
Gendry remembered Jon telling him about the girl. Although he had pitied her, he was thankful it had not been Arya but merely an impostor.  
With a gloomy expression Arya carried on. “I can't even imagine what Ramsay has done to her. I'm not even sure I want to know. When we were children she used to make fun of me. She called me 'Arya Horseface',“ Arya smiled to herself, although her eyes seemed sad. “I hated her for it. She and Sansa would always pick on me. But now? Now I feel only sorry for her. I hope she will open up to Sansa when she returns. Perhaps Jeyne can become her old self eventually. I don't know.“  
Gendry felt uneasy, not sure what to reply. He too felt sympathy for the girl, but also a little upset that she used to tease Arya. It was probably due to her that Arya thought herself as ugly.  
Arya elbowed him. “Anyway, let's head out, shall we?“

 

In the courtyard the residents of Winterfell greeted them cordially. The people were bowing to her. They were expressing their gratitude and they were praising her for her bravery. In exchange Arya thanked them for helping her bringing down Ramsay Bolton.  
There were almost no traces left of the battle's aftermath. The banners of House Bolton had been taken down quickly, replaced by the banner of House Stark, the direwolf on a white field. The yard was cleaned of blood and yesterday's gloom seemed to be fading from Winterfell.

Arya was still limping, after all her wound was fresh. Gendry thought of suggesting her to rest, but he knew she would only reprimand him, possibly even get mad at him, so he walked slowly beside her.  
It was a cold morning. During the night more snow had fallen and it was now covering the rooftops and the walls.  
Arya was wearing a thick brown fur over her breeches and tunic and she had her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, with two strands pinned up at the back of her head. Her skin was already lightening, now that she had spent weeks in Westeros. The paleness accentuated the rosiness of her cheeks, her red lips and her stormy grey eyes. Gendry thought she had never looked more beautiful than that morning.  
He too was wearing furs, but unlike Arya who seemed to be completely in her element with the snow surrounding her, Gendry was shivering in the cold. Despite his time at the wall, Gendry never had accustomed to the cold and he caught himself missing the pleasant climate of the Stormlands.  
“Come,“ Arya said, taking Gendry by his hand. “Let me show you the godswood.“

 

She led him to an iron gate and they accessed the forest. It was dark with the trees growing close together and the walls enclosing it. The godswood looked wild and ancient, just like the north did.  
“When I was a child I loved playing in the godswood,“ Arya told him. She closed her eyes and stopped, breathing in the air, as if she was inhaling the memory. “The godswood is alive. I can sense the spirits. I can hear the whispers.“  
Gendry tried to listen, but he did not hear anything. Nevertheless he had to admit, that the godswood was eery and yet intriguing.  
“There was a godswood in Storm's End, as well,“ Gendry told Arya.  
“Was?“  
Gendry looked to his feet and bit the inside of his cheek. “My uncle, Stannis Baratheon, burned it down, as an offering to the Lord of the Light.“  
Arya huffed and shook her head. She gestured to him to follow her deeper into the grove and soon, they were standing in front of a pool of black water. Over it stood a large weirwood tree with a face carved into it.  
“This is the heart tree,“ Arya explained. “We pray to it. They say that no man can tell a lie in front of the heart tree, for the old gods know when men are lying,“ Arya smirked to him and walked a few steps backwards towards the weirwood tree.  
Gendry felt awe-struck standing with Arya in front of the heart tree. It was not only the sanctity of the place that made him breathless, but also the fact that Arya had brought him here. To this sacred place, where her father and her ancestors used to worship the ancient gods. She showed him her belief and her past and it felt as if she was sharing a secret with him. It felt almost intimate.  
Arya leaned her back against the heart tree and Gendry could not help but admire the sight of her. Her dark fur and hair were contrasting with the white of the tree behind her. Her grey eyes were shining. She looked like a wild goddess of the North, standing on moss and snow.  
Gendry approached her. He was breathing heavily, flooded by the desire for her. When he was standing in front of her, he could see the same desire reflecting in her eyes.  
Arya placed her palms on his chest and slowly run her hands up to put her arms around his neck. She pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. Eagerly Gendry responded to her kiss. She opened her mouth for him and he hungrily entered it with his tongue. He was holding her with one arm and with the other he was supporting them against the tree. He felt himself harden as he heard Arya moan and he wished he could take her there at this very moment. Regardless of the cold and the sacredness.  
Apparently Arya had the same thought as she pulled off his fur, letting it fall to the ground. Gendry broke their kiss to stare at her. Confused Arya furrowed her brow and tried to kiss him again, but Gendry stopped her. He saw fury sparkling in her eyes at his rejection.  
“Come with me,“ he said, before she could berate him.  
“What?“, Arya said as she pulled his body towards hers again. Her lips were swollen from the kiss and her cheeks were red. He needed a lot of self-restraint not to resume the kissing.  
“Come with me. To Storm's End,“ his voice was beseeching but he did not care if he sounded pathetic to her.  
Arya pursed her lips and looked away.  
“Please, Arya. You want me, too, don't you?“  
“I can't,“ she said without meeting his eyes. “This is my home. I can't leave. The North is my home. The wolf can't survive in the south.“  
Gendry bit his lip as he fought the urge to shout at her. He had known that she would decline him. He had known that she would stay here. He had been aware before they had even started their journey. Still, he was not able to suppress the frustration and the devastation that was overcoming him. He almost regretted coming with her. How could he possibly leave her after what had happened between them?  
“I can't leave without you,“ Gendry said with what sounded awfully like a sob.  
“Then don't,“ she whispered and rested her forehead against his.  
“I have to.“  
She brushed her lips against his. “Then you understand why I can't leave.“  
Gendry nodded and let go of her. He rubbed his hand across his face, trying to regain his countenance.  
“Let's have a feast for the men tonight,“ he told her, his voice bare of any emotion. “Then the men and I shall leave tomorrow.“  
Dismayed Arya stared at him. “Tomorrow? Can't you stay a little longer, Gendry?“  
He clenched his jaw. “I can't.“  
Gendry saw hurt flicker across her face, before her expression hardened again. She curled her lips, pushed herself away from the tree and went towards the entrance of the godswood.

***

That night the Great Hall was filled with laughter and jubilance. Although Winterfell's kitchen had not much to offer, the men were dining in an exuberant mood. Music was playing as the men Daenery's had sent with them were dancing and revelling with the Northmen and with the people of Winterfell.  
Gendry wondered when the last time had been, that the people of Winterfell had been able to laugh and celebrate.  
Only he did not seem to share their mood. With a poor appetite Gendry was nibbling on his meat, preferring ale to the meal. He was sitting on the raised platform for noble guests, with Arya a few seats away from him. He had been watching her the whole evening. Even if he tried to remove his gaze his eyes would involuntarily return to her.  
She was wearing light brown breeches and a light grey woollen tunic. The neckline of the tunic was revealing the curve of her breast and she repeatedly caught him staring at it.  
Since the incident in the godswood Arya had not talked to him and he felt a bitterness he was trying to drown with ale and wine. He laughed at his own wretchedness and once again was reminded of his own father. He wondered if Robert had felt the same when he had lost Lyanna.  
He too had lost a wolf of the north and sought salvation inside his drink.  
For the first time Gendry truly regretted to have chosen the life of nobility. He cursed Dondarrion and his bloody prophecy that had blinded Gendry. He had betrayed himself. If he had remained a smith, he might have been able to stay with Arya in Winterfell. He could have worked as a smith for her. He did not need a featherbed, he did not need gold and garments and a title. He only needed her. He had thought as a lord he would have been able to reach Arya. In the end it was the reason he had lost her.  
Gendry was already deep in his cups when Arya sat next to him.  
“What's with that sour face?“, she slurred. Seemingly Arya like him had devoted herself to the wine.  
“What do you want?“, he grumbled without looking at her.  
“It saddens me, that you have to leave,“ she stroked his hand that was holding the cup of ale.  
“Then come with me.“  
Arya rolled her eyes. “I told you, I can't.“  
Gendry grimaced and emptied his cup. With force he put his cup down, making her wince. “I'm in love with you, Arya.“  
Arya stared at him and he returned her gaze expectantly. For once she seemed at a loss for words.  
Soon she regained her steely composure and huffed at him. “Love's nothing but a stupid feeling that makes the body betray the mind.“  
Gendry turned away from her, wishing he would have never met Arya Stark.  
Arya placed her hand on his upper arm and he flinched as if her touch was scorching his skin. “Come with me outside, will you?“  
Against his better judgement he rose from his chair. She smiled at him and the two left the Great Hall.

 

The cold air did good to his stupor. He felt his mind becoming a little clearer.  
“I think I'm drunk,“ Arya muttered as she leant against his chest. She put her arms around his waist and squeezed him. Sighing Gendry gave in and enfolded her small figure into his arms. “It's true, you know,“ he whispered into her hair. “That I love you.“  
“I know,“ she said and looked up to him. “Do you remember Lommy?“ Gendry frowned. Why in the Seven Hells would she bring up Lommy now?  
“Of course I do.“  
“Back then you said we should leave them behind and go on alone. Do you remember?“, he nodded. “You believed in me. You were my only friend. And although I was a child, I think it was then when I began to fall in love with you.“  
Gendry felt his stomach flip at her confession. It was probably the wine that made her speak, but he did not care. He tightened his embrace and placed a kiss on the top of her head.  
“But then I asked you to become my family and you rather became a stupid fake knight. I think your love for Lem and Anguy and the other fools was bigger than for me.“ Gendry groaned, making Arya laugh. “What do you think happened to Weasel? Do you think she's still alive?“  
Gendry thought back to the little girl that Yoren had taken in with them so many years ago. It was unlikely that she had survived. He shrugged. “I hope so.“  
“Let's visit Hot Pie together someday.“  
Gendry smirked. “Only if you promise to visit me at Storm's End.“  
“Stupid.“  
“Shrew.“  
Arya threw her head back and laughed throatily. She staggered and cursed. She had strained her hurt leg.  
“You should rest, Arya. Your wound is still fresh. Let me escort you to your chamber.“  
“Don't tell me what to do, you stupid lord,“ she scoffed and scrunched up her nose.  
Gendry laughed at her drunken behaviour and Arya tried to push him defensively. He put one arm around her shoulders and the other at the back of her knees to lift her up. Arya protested and punched his chest, making Gendry laugh even more. “Let me down, stupid.“  
He ignored her and proceeded towards her chamber, hoping he would find the way. Eventually Arya gave in and fell remarkably silent. 

 

“Spend the night with me,“ she told him as they reached her bedroom. Gendry sat her on the bed, her arms still locked around his neck. “Let's just sleep next to each other, like we did when we were children.“  
It was probably not a good idea. It would make the parting only more difficult. Neither did he trust himself sleeping next to her, seeing as both were intoxicated.  
She looked at him with big eyes, her lips formed into a small pout and he gave in to her.  
Arya's back was turned to him, her head was resting on his arm. His other arm was clutching her to him. He listened to her steady heartbeat and her soft breathing.  
“You haven't promised me yet,“ Gendry whispered almost soundlessly.  
He could not leave like that. Not without the hope to see her again one day. He felt he should be happy for her, now that she had finally returned to her home to find peace among her people and her siblings. However, the idea of returning to his dull and shallow life without her, aggrieved him. He wanted her, Arya Stark. He could not imagine to marry another woman. Be it a lady or a baseborn. He would rather spend his life alone. Forever bestowed with the memory of her touch and her kisses.  
“I promise.“

***

 

True to his word Gendry and the men left Winterfell the next day. He had remained stoic when he said his goodbye to Arya.  
On their ride to the south Gendry was trying to persuade himself that it was better this way. Arya was home where she belonged. If he truly loved her, he would accept it. Even if it meant a life without Arya. At least he had her promise to hold on to. 

At the Trident Gendry parted ways with Daenerys' men and went east along the Red Fork.  
His destination was an inn built of grey stone and white wood. Above its door was a painted sign of a kneeling king.  
Gendry brought his mount to the stable and entered the inn.  
Sharna, the tall innkeeper did not recognise him. She was still as ugly as Gendry remembered her.  
“Good day, m'lord,“ she greeted him.  
“Hello Sharna,“ he returned her greeting with a friendly smile. Sharna stared at him in confusion. Gendry could tell she was trying to recognise him. He could not blame her for not remembering him. It had been years since their last encounter and he had looked different when he was with the Brotherhood. A dirty boy dressed in simple clothes. “I've come to visit Hot Pie. Is he still helping you?“  
“Hot Pie!“, Sharna shouted over her shoulder. “C'mere. Ye've got company.“  
A plump boy with straw-coloured hair came out of the kitchen. “Who?“, the boy asked, wiping his hands on his apron. When he spotted Gendry his eyes widened in surprise. “Gendry?“  
“Hot Pie,“ Gendry laughed. Hot Pie still looked the same. Perhaps a little fatter and slightly older.  
“What are you doing here?“, Hot Pie asked stunned. “I thought you were living in Storm's End.“  
“It's where I'm heading. I was at Winterfell with Arya and I stopped by to visit you.“  
“Ye're Lord Baratheon?“, Sharna almost screeched as she had finally realised who Gendry was.  
“That's Gendry, the Bull,“ Hot Pie told her. “He was with the Brotherhood the day I decided to stay here. He fancies himself a lord now.“  
Gendry laughed, pleased with Hot Pies informal address. He was glad he still saw him as Gendry instead of Lord Baratheon.  
“So it's true?“, Hot Pie smiled at Gendry. “Arry's alive?“  
Gendry nodded and tried to keep a neutral expression. “Yes. She's back in Winterfell.“  
“That's great,“ Hot Pie exclaimed and pointed to a table. “Have a seat, Gendry. D'you want to eat something?“  
“Actually I came with a request, Hot Pie,“ Gendry told him pointedly. “I'm in need of a baker, so I thought I'd ask you if you want to come with me.“  
Hot Pie stared at him dumbfounded. He looked to Sharna and then back to Gendry. “I can't,“ he told Gendry after a moment. “I can't just leave Sharna and Husband. They need me here.“  
“Have ye gone mad, fat boy?“, Sharna yelled and smacked Hot Pie's head. “That's a lord asking for yer service and ye decline him? Ye'll go with the lord, else I'll chase ye off.“  
“So?“, Gendry grinned.  
Hot Pie rubbed the spot at the back of his head where Sharna had hit him, but returned Gendry's grin. “So I guess I've to bake pies for a lord now.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm sorry if this was too fluffy. I'm actually not the fluffy type. I didn't plan to write so much romance after the godswood scene, but then I got a little carried away. :'D If you think the scenes were too soppily please tell me.
> 
> \- So I kinda made a canon mistake, because Jeyne Poole had fled Winterfell and went to the Wall. I wanted to give her a bigger appearance in the next chapter.


	9. The Restless Soul

“Do you know where Theon is?“, Jeyne asked with a quiet voice. It was no more than a whisper.  
Arya and she were standing on the wall of Winterfell, looking down at the abandoned winter town. Winterfell looked trist and desolated. Large parts of the fortress were still burned down.  
She felt an inenarrable ache for her home. The place of her childhood, filled with good memories, now destroyed and tainted. How could the queen and Jon possibly neglect Winterfell for so long? Ramsay and his despicable house should have been wiped out years ago.  
If she had not stayed for so long in Braavos she might have been able to avenge Winterfell earlier. Arya wished to kill Ramsay again. She wished his death to be repeated over and over. She wished she would have tortured him and given him the same treatment he had given to his victims. But he was dead. His ashes blown away by the wind. Scattered around her homeland.  
“Either back on the Iron Islands or dead,“ Arya answered in disgust. “I sure hope the latter.“  
“Why?“, Jeyne had raised her voice subtly. When Arya looked at her, she was surprised by the sight. Jeyne's widened eyes told her she was horrified by Arya's statement.  
“What do you mean 'why'? I'd gladly kill him, too.“ Jeyne's lower lip began to tremble and she grimaced. “Jeyne?“  
“He was good. He helped me,“ Jeyne uttered without looking at Arya. She creased her forehead and her eyes filled with tears. “He was good.“  
“What are you talking about?“, Arya yelled. Her voice was louder than she had intended. Jeyne winced and raised her trembling hands to hide her face. “Theon betrayed my father. He betrayed Robb. He betrayed my family and the whole of Winterfell. It is because of him we're standing on ruins now.“  
By now Jeyne was sobbing. “You don't know what he did to him. You don't know, Arya.“  
Her words were muffled by her cries and the hands that were pressed against her face.  
Tentatively Arya touched Jeyne's shoulder. “What's he done to you?“  
It took a while before Jeyne ceased her sobbing and lowered her hands again. Her bloodshot eyes seemed forlorn and broken, her lips were dry and her skin was pale. There were wrinkles in the face, that ought to look not much older than Arya's. Her once vibrant brown hair now was dull and intermingled with grey strands. The missing point of her nose completed her altered appearance.  
“I... I can't speak,“ she whispered as if she was afraid someone would hear and hurt her.  
“How did you end up here? You were in King's Landing with us.“  
“They took me,“ tears were streaming down Jeyne's cheeks. “They killed father and they took me from Sansa because I cried. They brought me to Littlefinger. To work.“  
Arya swallowed as she realised Jeyne had had to work in a brothel. _This must have been Cersei's doing_ , Arya thought. Her hate for the Lannister woman intensified and she swore to herself to kill the lioness, who was still on her list. She would kill her slowly and painfully.  
“I began to pose as you. I thought I'd be safer. Jamie Lannister found me and sent me to Winterfell, where I was wed to _him_. They knew, Arya. They knew I wasn't you.“  
Arya took Jeyne's hands into hers, assuring her to continue. “He... Ramsay... he...,“ Jeyne was shaking so much, it worried Arya.  
“It's alright, Jeyne. So you fled with Theon, right?“  
“Yes,“ Jeyne breathed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “He helped me. But Lord Baratheon seperated us. Jon knew. Jon knew I wasn't you. He tried to help. He said he was sorry. They knew I wasn't you and Theon said if I wasn't Arya I'd be a whore. I left. I was foolish, but I left. I wanted to find a village. Perhaps to live somewhere. But I hoped the cold would take me to the Stranger. The gods never answered my prayers. They found me and brought me back to _him_. He beat me, he strangled me and I thought I'd finally die. But I didn't. He let me be afterwards. He said he'd have killed me, but he needed me for his claim to Winterfell.“  
When Arya pulled Jeyne into an embrace, she was surprised by the tears forming inside her own eyes. It was not like her to cry, to show others her weaknesses, but suddenly Arya could not help herself as a sob escaped her and she allowed the tears to fall.  
She joined into Jeyne's wailing and let everything out. She cried for the pain the other girl had had to endure. She cried for the people they both had lost, for the loss of their childhood, for all the years they had spent in hate and agony.  
It felt liberating. The perpetual tenseness and frustration inside her seemed to fade, leaving an almost clarified body.  
“It's alright now, Jeyne,“ she tried to soothe her, as soon as Arya had calmed down herself. “Soon Sansa will be here. We will all be together again. You're safe now. No more harm will ever happen to you. I promise you.“  
Snivelling Jeyne tightened her arms around Arya. “I'm sorry, Arya. I'm so sorry.“  
“For what?“, Arya stared at her in confusion.  
“For calling you names when we were children. I'm sorry.“  
Arya smiled as tears escaped her eyes again. “Just don't start again when Sansa arrives.“  
Jeyne giggled. It was the first time since Arya's arrival that she saw Jeyne being cheerful.  
“Thank you, Arya.“

 

***

 

A sennight after Gendry had left Winterfell, Arya was informed of people approaching the North Gate.  
She headed to the gate wondering who would come to Winterfell from the northern direction. She expected Sansa to arrive soon, but she would be travelling on the King's Road.  
Next to her Nymeria seemed agitated. The direwolf was barking and circling Arya. “What's wrong, Nymeria?“, she asked the wolf but it only incited her.  
Arya climbed the stairs up to the wall and narrowed her eyes at the approaching figures. She saw two persons walking next to another very tall one, who was carrying something on his back. Or someone. Among the group of people was a direwolf.  
“Bran!“, Arya called out excited and motioned to the guards to open the gate.  
She rushed through the gate and ran laughing towards her brother. Nymeria had already reached Bran's silver direwolf and the two were rolling around and yelping in the snow.  
“Bran,“ Arya exclaimed when she reached the group. She could not cast off the grin that was plastered on her face. Her little brother was alive and he had returned.  
“Sweet sister,“ Bran nodded to her from the basket on Hodor's back. He had grown so much. His blue eyes seemed so much wiser. But they all looked awfully thin. Even Summer. “It's good to see you again.“  
“Lady Arya,“ the girl that came with Bran said, bowing her head to Arya. The boy followed suit.  
“You two must be Meera and Jojen Reed,“ Arya assumed. “I've met your father. He's waiting for you.“  
Arya saw a light returning into Jojen's eyes and a smile lit up his pinched face.  
“Come. Let's get inside,“ Arya tugged Hodor by his arm. “Let's get you something to eat. And then you'll tell me everything.“

 

As soon as they were served their meals in the Great Hall, the four arrivals attacked their food.  
Arya had ordered the kitchen servants to do their best in preparing their meals. The servants brought them dark rye bread together with a thick stew of hare, onions and parsnips. As second gear they had roasted pheasant, seasoned with rosemary, thyme and sage.  
They were eating and drinking noisily, while Arya was sitting next to Bran, smiling at her little brother.  
“Where did you stay all this time?“  
Bran swallowed a piece of meat and licked the grease from his fingers. “In a cave.“  
“A cave?“, Arya asked dumbfounded.  
“We went to search the three-eyed-crow. There's much I need to tell you, Arya.“  
“Most certainly you will. It will be a long night,“ she put her arm around Bran's shoulders and squeezed him to her. Having her brother back still felt unreal to her. “How did you know I returned, when you were in a cave?“  
“I can see,“ Bran began. “I can see in my dreams. I saw you coming. I saw you in the forest with Nymeria. I saw you in Braavos, too.“  
Arya gasped and remembered a dream she had. A dream of a tree watching her. “I think I saw you, too.“ Bran smiled and nodded. She was not really surprised to know that green dreams actually existed. She wondered if he had also seen her kissing Gendry. “Can you warg into Summer, too?“  
“Yes,“ Bran said before he gulped down his wine. “In fact I can warg into Hodor, as well. Jon's a warg, too.“  
“Into Hodor?“ Arya cried out. “You can warg into people? Can you teach me Bran?“  
Bran laughed and shrugged. “Mayhaps.“  
“Why didn't you go to Greywater Watch?“, Arya directed the question to the Reed siblings, as Bran continued his meal. “Why did you stay so long beyond the wall?“  
Jojen shifted uneasy in his seat. His sister Meera took his hand and smiled to him. “My brother saw a dream. If we were to return home, he'd face unpleasant consequences. I didn't allow it.“  
“I want to go home,“ Jojen pursed his lips and plucked on his bread. “I want to see father. It will be alright, Meera.“  
“We will leave soon, brother,“ the older girl placed a kiss on her brother's temple.  
The glance Bran shot Meera did not go unnotice. Arya thought her brother looked sad, perhaps even hurt. For the rest of the meal she studied Bran's behaviour. She noticed how his eyes would ever so often dart to Meera and Arya realised her brother probably had feelings for the girl.

 

“You're in love with her, aren't you?“, Arya asked her brother as they watched the Reed siblings leaving Winterfell two days later.  
Bran seemed positively shattered seeing his companions go. He ignored Arya's question.  
“You'll see them again soon. We can visit Greywater Watch together if you want. Before I arrived here, I was Lord Reed's guest. I liked him.“  
She saw Bran smiling weakly but he did not response otherwise. “Does she feel the same?“  
“I think not,“ Bran replied meekly. “Who would want a cripple anyway? I'll never walk again Arya. I can't blame her.“  
Arya frowned at her brother, unsure of how to console him. She could not imagine how being unable to walk felt. Unable to fight, jump and ride. Her poor little brother.  
“When I was in King's Landing Tyrion told me about a chair with wheels. It's designed for people who can't walk. So they can move again. You spin the wheels with your hands.“  
“Lord Tyrion once designed a saddle for me,“ Bran told her. “For Dancer.“  
“I'll ask Tyrion to design such a chair for you. How's that?“ Bran smiled down at her from Hodor's back. “Come on, we've still got a lot of work to do before Sansa arrives.“

 

***

 

Sansa arrived and to Arya's surprise, Jon had come with her. Both were grieved to see their old childhood home destroyed. Although the repairs had begun as soon as Arya had come back, it would take years for Winterfell to return to its old glory.  
In spite of it all, being back home together with her siblings and her cousin felt good.  
They went out for long walks and rides. They sat together in the Great Hall sharing their stories until late at night and for a fleeting moment, Arya was able to forget how much time they had lost. How much they all had changed. For once they were children again. Carefree and devoid of any sorrows.

 

It did not take long until the last of them returned. On a rainy afternoon their little brother Rickon along with his direwolf Shaggydog and a woman appeared.  
Bran knew her. She was a wildling called Osha.  
“My babybrother,“ Sansa cried out as she flung her arms around the youngest. Rickon flinched and gave out a growl, startling Sansa.  
“He doesn't trust,“ the wildling woman explained putting an arm around Rickon. “He has a fierce nature, the little one. A true wolf.“  
Arya saw love in Osha's eyes as she smiled down at Rickon. Their brother had grown. He was a boy of ten now, with long, unruly hair and freckles on his face. Although he favoured their mother, he clearly was a Stark of the North.  
“I was informed by Ser Davos Seaworth that you were in Skagos,“ Jon told Osha. “We thought it were only rumours.“  
“It's the truth, Your Grace. Unfortunately we had to seperate the two princes. It was safer this way.“  
Behind them Shaggydog growled at Ghost and Nymeria. Only Summer seemed to be able to approach the black wolf.  
“He needs time,“ Osha continued. “Rickon doesn't remember your faces, although I kept telling him of Winterfell and his family as he grew up.“  
She bowed her head to Rickon and whispered into the boy's ear. He contorted his face and looked away.  
“I'm your sister Sansa, Rickon,“ the older Stark girl said and approached the boy carefully. “You're so tall and so handsome, aren't you?“  
Sansa raised her hand and tentatively touched Rickon's cheek. He did not pull away this time.  
“Hello, Sansa,“ he muttered.  
Sansa's eyes glistened and she pulled her little brother into an embrace.  
“It's alright now. We're together. We shall never seperate again.“

 

***

 

The remaining Starks were finally in Winterfell. The North was free and Westeros at peace.  
It was a few days before Jon would leave for King's Landing again and he and the Stark children were at the courtyard, watching the four direwolves play.  
Shaggydog had quickly accustomed to his littermates, though he continued to be wild and belligerent.  
Rickon was still wary of everybody but he seemed at ease around Bran. He remembered his brother with whom he had been hiding in the crypts of Winterfell six years ago.  
Although Sansa was grateful to Osha, she tried her best to gain Rickon's trust and fill in the mother's role for him.  
Rickon also seemed to take a liking to Arya. He enjoyed going hunting with her and their direwolves. And he liked to listen to Arya's stories about their ancestors, about what Arya had seen in the war and about Essos. With each passing day Rickon demanded more stories to hear.  
“I miss Lady,“ Sansa said, a sorrowful look on her pretty face. “I wish she were here with us.“  
Arya imagined it to be hard for Sansa, being the only Stark without a direwolf to protect her. Lady had such a gentle nature, just like her sister. She hated Cersei for ordering the death of her sister's direwolf.  
“I had another dog to look after me, but he's gone now, too,“ Sansa smiled to herself without elaborating further.  
“I miss them so much,“ Arya told her sister. “I miss father and mother. I miss her reprimanding me. I miss Robb. I wish we were all together. With Lady and Grey Wind.“  
Arya felt Jon's hand on her back. She turned her head to see her brother smile at her. He would always be her brother. Her dearest brother, with the same grey eyes, the same dark hair.  
“The dead won't return, but the living were granted with a new life. Father would be proud of you, Arya. Don't load yourself with grief, but remember the happy memories you have of them.“  
“You've become a wise old man in King's Landing, haven't you?“  
Jon gave her a mocking glare, making Arya and Sansa laugh. “Anyway, I'll go down to the crypt.“  
“Mind if I join you?“, Arya asked.  
“Of course not, as long as you don't disguise yourself as a ghost again.“  
Arya threw her head back and laughed at the memory when Jon had covered himself in flour. “That was you, Jon. And you never scared me.“

 

The crypt was ever cold and dark but Arya had always liked it there. It was the dead's resort. The place where her father had found his final rest. Her aunt, her uncle, her grandfather. The place where they all would find their rest one day. She wondered if her mother's body would be buried there, too. She was no Stark and she might even remain as Lady Stoneheart when all the others would be long gone.  
A few years ago Jon managed to retrieve her father's remains and brought them to King's Landing. He had brought the remains of Eddard Stark back home now. Robb's were never found.

“It still feels weird,“ Jon said as they reached the tomb of Lyanna Stark. “That she's my mother.“  
“Are you sad you never got to know your parents?“  
“Sometimes,“ Jon shrugged. “Sometimes I wish I would've known them. I'd want to tell them they were selfish and reckless.“  
“They loved each other,“ Arya said. “Besides, Aerys' reign was already tottering. And if it wasn't for them you wouldn't be here, Jon.“  
Jon huffed and fell silent for a while. He looked at his mother's statue and then back to Arya. “They say you look like her.“  
“Don't start. That prick Aegon has already given me a hard time,“ Arya rolled her eyes.  
“Did he? He's still resentful because of Rhaegar's and Lyanna's love. Therefore he also bears a grudge against me,“ Jon chuckled. “He dislikes Gendry, too. You should witness their quarrels during the small council.“  
Arya laughed at the idea of Gendry and Aegon fighting. She pictured the two men. One with a stubborn frown, the other with a sulking face like a pampered little boy.  
“Can't you stay here?“, Arya begged. “It's not home without you.“  
“I wish I could,“ he sighed. “I wish I could.“  
Arya embraced him and they stayed like this for a while, before Jon let loose of her and the two of them returned to the surface.

 

***

 

Arya sat in the godswood leaning her back against the heart tree. Lost in thoughts her fingertips were stroking the spot on her thigh where the healing scar was underneath her breeches. She thought of Gendry and wondered what he was doing. If he was well. If he would soon find a lady to wed.  
They had kissed there. Against the trunk of the sacred tree. It was here where her body had demanded him. Where she had felt a longing and an ache for him to take her.  
She traced her lips with her fingers, trying to remember his mouth on hers. His kisses had felt good. They had given her a tickling, burning sensation. They had sparked a fire within her body. A fire that she did not want to be extinguished. A fire she wanted to blaze and flare.  
His touch had been galvanizing, his breath against her skin had made her shiver.  
It infuriated her that Gendry was able to cause such feelings in her. It made her feel weak. She was no foolish maid swooning over a stupid lord. Why did she see him in her dreams then? Why was he ever-present in her mind? Why did she feel a pain where her heart was, whenever she thought of him?  
She desired him, it was indisputable. She asked herself when she had turned into a simpering fool. How long since she had developed feelings for that stupid bull-headed boy.  
A small voice inside her told her, she was lying to herself. She had already cared for Gendry when they were younger. She remembered being jealous of that tavern wench and she remembered how hurt she was, when he decided to stay with the brotherhood.  
It was true what she had told him, albeit inebriated. She loved him for years.

Arya heard a rustling noise and looked up to see Sansa approaching.  
“I figured you'd be here,“ her sister smiled at her and sat down next to Arya. “I was with Jeyne until now. We were doing needle work, I thought it would be a distraction for her.“  
Since her arrival Sansa was looking after Jeyne. She had moved Jeyne's chamber next to hers, so she could see to her, whenever the girl had another nightmare. Which happened to be several times a night.  
“How's she?“  
Sansa sighed and straightened out the folds of her light blue gown. “It's so awful, Arya. She's screaming and crying in her sleep and she flinches whenever a man crosses her path. She'll never be her old self again. How could a person be so cruel?“, a tear escaped Sansa's eyes. She wiped it away and snivelled. “Poor, Jeyne. Poor, poor, Jeyne.“  
The two sisters sat together in silence, listening to the wind rushing through the leaves.  
“You seem sad,“ Sansa said after a while.  
“I'm not.“  
“You certainly seem so.“  
“Well, I'm not, Sansa,“ Arya snapped at her.  
Sansa huffed but dropped the subject. “Tell me about mother. You saw her, didn't you?“  
A shiver went through Arya as she thought of Lady Stoneheart sitting in the Hollow Hill. She remembered her white skin and her dead eyes. “She's not our mother, Sansa. It's best you don't think about her. Mother's dead.“  
Sansa nodded. “Do you miss Gendry?“  
Irritated by Sansa's question Arya grimaced. “Why would I?“  
The older girl gave her a smug smile, irking Arya. “He loves you.“  
“He told me.“  
“And do you love him?“, Sansa smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her sister's ear.  
Arya pulled away and crossed her arms. “I don't fall in love. I'm not you, Sansa, batting my eyelashes for honourable knights,“ she scoffed. “Speaking of which. What about you? I figured you'd be married with a dozen children by now.“  
Sansa looked at her with wistful eyes. She shook her head and her lips formed into a lugubrious smile. “No, there's no one. I shall always remain the little bird.“  
Arya furrowed her brows, not sure what her sister was talking about. Sansa's blue eyes were radiating a melancholy she had never before seen in her.  
“Arya, you've been sulking for weeks now,“ Sansa diverted the conversation again. “You should go with Jon to King's Landing.“  
Arya shook her head no. “Winterfell is where I belong.“  
“Why are you not happy then?“  
She fell silent to reflect upon Sansa's question. “I don't know. I want to be. But I feel... I think I feel restless. Unsettled. I've waited so long to get back home. Now I'm back and we're all together and I am happy. But now that everything's over, I think 'now what?'“, she had yet to kill Cersei and Dunsen, if he was still alive, but she would not tell Sansa of this. However, that was not the only reason for her restlessness. Winterfell was her home and yet it did not feel like home anymore. She loved to be with her family, but she felt something was missing. Perhaps she was a wolf. Not able to settle down. She did not know. She only knew that she felt unfulfilled.  
“This is the difference between us Arya,“ Sansa told her. “I want peace and I found it here. Behind the walls of my childhood home. You have yet to find where you belong. Sweet sister, go to King's Landing. Go with Jon. If you don't find what you're looking for, you can always return here.“  
“I hate King's Landing,“ Arya knew her attempt to sound disinclined to Sansa's suggestion failed. She would give it a thought. Spending time with Jon would not be bad. She might even see Gendry again.  
Arya smiled to her sister, who returned it and rested her head upon Arya's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The part with Bran was hard for me to write, because I literally have no idea what will happen to him, Meera and Jojen after ADWD. I don't know if they'll survive or how long they will stay in their cave. (Or will stay forever) So I kinda let them stay there for 5 years. I'm really sorry if you think it's stupid.
> 
> \- Also, I should give Jon a better role than the sulking prince, I know. Initially I wanted to take him with Arya to get Winterfell back, but then I thought Gendry wouldn't get enough credit. So I kept him sulking in the Red Keep.
> 
> \- Lastly, about Rickon: I regret I chose to let him return from Skagos only now. I think it would've been better if Davos had brought him back and he stayed with Jon and Sansa in King's Landing. When I started this story, I used merely the information we were given from ADWD. I know this is fanfiction and I'm aware that probably nothing will turn out like I'm imagining it  
> 


	10. The Dragon and the Stag

“Do you like it here?“, Gendry asked with a mouth full of sweet bread. He was sitting in the kitchen of Storm's End, savouring in the smell of yeast and fresh baked bread. Around him the servants were scurrying around, bowing their heads whenever they passed by him.  
Ever since Gendry had brought Hot Pie to Storm's End he visited the baker boy frequently in the kitchen. He enjoyed the company of his old friend, who reminded him of his Flea Bottom background and their past with Arya.  
Gendry chuckled at the sight of Hot Pie. He was busy kneading dough. His face, hair and basically his whole body were covered in flour.  
“I suppose 'tis nice enough,“ he told Gendry. “The Stormlands seem nice. It could be worse than having you as lord. Although it certainly feels odd to be your servant.“  
“I'm not your Lord, Hot Pie,“ Gendry said, feeling actually hurt. “I'm your friend.“  
“Well, your still 'm'lord',“ Hot Pie shrugged.  
“I'm not. I'm Gendry.“  
The younger man looked up and laughed. “That sounded just like her. Tell me about Arry. Is she well?“  
Gendry sighed, hoping his expression would not betray the lingering ache he was feeling. “She's good. A woman grown, but wild and wayward as ever. She killed Ramsay Bolton on her own. I admire her strength, you know. She got Winterfell back and there she is now with her sister.“  
Hot Pie gave him a smile which Gendry thought looked pityingly. “Where's she been until now?“  
Gendry grabbed another piece of pastry, earning a scowling look from Hot Pie. “In Braavos actually.“  
Hot Pie raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Braavos? What's she done in Braavos?“  
“She's spent five years there. Selling oysters or something. Then one day she decided to return to Westeros.“  
Gendry fell silent and smiled to himself. He thought back to the day when he found Arya with Nymeria in the forest. The wild and feral wolf girl, kissed by the Braavosi sun. Yet with the same stormy silver eyes. He had seen her again last night. In his dreams she was dancing in the snow, wearing her dark furs and her braided hair. She was laughing and turning, inviting him to dance with her.  
“You know,“ Hot Pie invaded his thoughts, “I always thought you and her... Well you know.“  
“Know what?“  
“You two were always so close. I know she was a lady, where you were but a bastard. But now that you're a lord, I figured you'd wed her.“  
“Well you figured wrong. Arya is in her homeland, where she belongs.“  
Hot Pie snorted and continued to form bread rolls from the dough. Gendry too remained silent before he reminded himself that he had other matters to attend to.  
“Anyway, Hot Pie. I need to leave you to yourself. Bake me more of that sweet pastry with the raisins, will you?“  
“Oh, bugger off, m'lord,“ he told Gendry rolling his eyes, making the latter laugh. 

Gendry walked down to the bay where he knew he would find Davos Seaworth who had just returned from a trade in Dorne.  
He had acquired a liking for the Onion Knight who served as his castellan. Like Gendry Davos had grown up in Flea Bottom, so Gendry felt he could easily relate to the man. Davos had ever been faithful to the Baratheons and had accepted Gendry willingly as his new lord. Over the years Gendry had come to appreciate the loyal knight dearly. He trusted him and his good sense that was helping him to maintain the ties to other houses with the trades they were carrying on.  
“My Lord,“ Davos saluted the Lord of Storm's End when he saw him approaching the ships. Next to the knight Gendry's squire Alester, a bastard boy of ten and two from Estermont, bent down his head to greet him.  
Gendry tousled the boy's brown hair. “Alester, I hope you enjoyed your journey to Dorne. I trust Ser Davos treated you well?“  
Gendry had taken Alester in as a squire when he had moved to Storm's End three years ago. He remembered a brisk boy with the dream to become a knight one day. Gendry then had offered him to become his squire and eventually a knight of his own.  
Ever since then the boy acted humble and respectful towards Gendry, as if he was the king himself.  
“He did, my Lord,“ the boy told him meekly.  
Gendry knelt down in front of his squire and gave the boy an assuring smile. “Go and help the men with unloading the ships. Later we shall share some of the Dornish wine you brought with you.“  
Alester gave him a wide grin, displaying the gape between his teeth and headed to the ship to help discharging the cargo.  
“You and the boy get along quite well,“ Davos noted.  
“He's a good lad.“  
“Don't you want your own children to call heirs, Lord Gendry?“  
Gendry sighed. _Why was it everybody was talking marriage and heirs these days?_ However, Davos was right. At the age of one and twenty Gendry had long since reached the nubile age. Marrying and having heirs of his own was not only expected of the Lord of Storm's End, but also necessary to carry on the line of House Baratheon.  
“On my visit to Sunspear I've come to meet the Princess of Dorne, the Lady Arianne Martell. She's of a remarkable beauty, my Lord. But she's also clever and cunning, definitely unlike other women. I believe you would like her. Her son is a Sand and thus can't inherit her title. The trueborn daughter and son of Trystane Martell and his lady wife Myrcella will inherit the title instead.“  
Davos was speaking the truth. Gendry had once met Arianne himself and he had found she was indeed a beautiful woman, with her raven black hair and her dark olive skin. He had also noticed the Princess of Dorne had made eyes at him, but there had been no spark, no genuine interest on either side.  
Arianne Martell was still unwed at the age of thirty, with a bastard of her own. Even if Gendry would actually come to like her, she would never replace what he was feeling for Arya. A match between the two would mean a loveless marriage, but both might benefit from it.  
Marrying Arianne Martell was not a bad idea. The bond of the two houses would serve to strengthen both lines and their heirs would constitute a loyal ally to the Iron Throne.  
_But not yet_ , he thought. _I won't marry yet_.  
“You could also marry Lady Shireen Baratheon,“ Davos continued. “So you can hold Dragonstone, as well.“  
Gendry shot the knight a disapproving look. “I'm not marrying my cousin, Davos.“  
Ser Davos nodded and to Gendry's relief dismissed the subject.  
“I want to visit the godswood. Care to join me, Davos?“, Gendry asked.  
“The godswood?“, the older man replied in surprise. “It is no more a godswood since Lord Stannis burned it down.“  
Gendry nodded but nevertheless made towards the place where once the godswood of Storm's End had stood.  
When the two men entered the area, Gendry noticed that the wood had begun to grow again. It had been burnt down years ago, but nature had reclaimed its right. The ground was covered with grass and moss. Small plants were growing and here and there saplings were to be seen.  
“It was an offer to the Lord of Light,“ Ser Davos commented as the two men were viewing the former sanctuary. “I told him not to burn it down for it was a sacred place, but the Red Woman had him under her spell.“  
At the wall Gendry had met the Red Priestess Melisandre of Asshai. A powerful shadowbinder whose madness had driven Stannis Baratheon into his demise. She had believed him to be Azor Ahai and when she saw that he was not, she had let him fall. He wondered what the priestess was doing now. If she had returned to Asshai or if she was still seeking Azor Ahai.  
“When she tried to sacrifice my brother, you rescued him,“ Gendry said. “I never thanked you for that, Davos.“  
“It was folly. King's blood, she had said. Tell me, what God is it, who demands a human sacrifice? He was but a boy,“ the knight frowned suddenly. “I'm sorry, my Lord. You follow the Lord of Light. I forgot.“  
It was true. When he was a knight of the Hollow Hill he had been converted to the religion of the Lord of Light. He had seen the red wizard Thoros of Myr resurrecting Beric Dondarrion. He had seen the power of R'hllor. He had seen the madness in Melisandre and in Lady Stoneheart.  
“Aye, when I was with the Brotherhood I was taught the Lord of Light's belief, but I'm not devout. So you sent him to the Free Cities, didn't you?“  
“Together with good men to guard him, yes.“  
“Do you know where he is now?“  
Davos raised his maimed hand to his chest and seemed to clutch on to something, that was not there.  
“Last time I heard of him, he was hiding in Lys. When peace came upon Westeros he refused to return. I suppose he's still fearing Melisandre or came to like his new life in Essos.“  
“I see,“ Gendry nodded and took a moment to think. “I want Edric to be legitimised. He is free to return to the Stormlands whenever he wants, but as Edric Baratheon. I already asked Daenerys to legitimise my sister Mya, who lives in the Vale. I invited her to the Stormlands, but she chose to remain at the Vale, although as Mya Baratheon.“  
Gendry smiled at the idea of his legitimised siblings. He hoped the day would come, when they all would be gathered in the same place. _How many more of us had my father sired?_ , he wondered. _How many are still alive?_  
“I want a new weirwood tree to be planted,“ Gendry said eventually. “This place shall become sacred again.“  
“Have you found the old gods while in the North, my Lord?“, he saw the knight chuckle.  
“Well, something like that,“ Gendry smiled, albeit wistfully.  
The godswood of Winterfell had captured him. The sentience of present ancient spirits had fascinated him. He wanted such a place at his home, although he suspected it would lack the mysticism of the northern godswood. Nevertheless, he would cherish to have the sacred forest to visit and be reminiscent of his memories of Arya and the North.  
“I'll leave for King's Landing soon. Prince Jon has returned and Queen Daenerys plans to celebrate the new-found freedom of the North. See to it, that the godswood will be restored.“  
Obediently Ser Davos bowed his head. “Of course, my Lord.“

***

When Gendry entered the Red Keep and saw Arya walking alongside Jon, he thought he was seeing a ghost. He blinked a few times at the sight, only to see, that it was truly Arya in front of him. As soon as the girl and the prince spotted Gendry staring at them, they made towards him.  
“Gendry,“ Jon greeted him first.  
“Hello stupid, came to talk boring politics with your queen again?“, the impish grin on her face made his stomach flip.  
“What are you doing here Arya?“  
She frowned at him as if his question had been foolish. “I chose to accompany Jon to King's Landing.“  
“Be honest,“ Gendry wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You came because you missed me.“  
He saw Arya blushing slightly before she punched his arm.“Oh, don't be so full of yourself, stupid. I've come to spend more time with Jon. Not for some imbecile lord.“  
“Why, m'lady, you wound me,“ Gendry told her with mock hurt on his face, making Arya laugh.  
“Oh, shut up.“  
The two were ginning at each other and behind Arya he saw Jon smirking at the pair.  
“I'll leave you two alone as I have duties to attend to. I'll expect you in the throne room later, Arya,“ the prince said and kissed Arya on her cheek. She assured him she would be there in time and Jon left them alone.  
As Gendry continued to walk with Arya, she cheerfully told him about the reconstructions of Winterfell, the return of her brothers and how happy she felt now that her remaining family was reunited.  
Arya looked good. She had an everlasting smile on her beaming face and Gendry was sharing her joy. It was probably the first time he saw her chattering so carefree.  
“So Nymeria's not with you?“, he asked when Arya finished her narration.  
“No,“ she sighed. “She once again left us at the Riverlands. But I know I'll see her soon again.“  
 _When she will leave me again_ , he thought numbly. “How long do you plan to stay in King's Landing?“  
“I don't know yet,“ Arya shrugged. “There's no haste for me to return. I'm not first in line anyway, so they're not in dire need of me. For the time being I'm free to go wherever I want to. I guess I'll return when I begin to miss my family and Winterfell. Anyway, you heard Jon. I need to leave, the queen is expecting me. She plans to make a feast for us,“ Arya rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, signifying her annoyance. She waved Gendry goodbye and went towards the throne room, leaving Gendry grinning like a fool.

 

“So you and the wolf bitch, huh?“, Gendry heard a voice as soon as Arya was out of sight.  
He turned to see the silver haired prince looking at him with a face full of contempt. Aegon was dressed all in black with a crimson cloak around his shoulders, displaying his Targaryen birth. His arms were crossed and he was smiling smugly at Gendry.  
“What do you want Aegon?“  
Aegon raised his chin into the direction Arya had gone. “You bedded her yet, Baratheon?“  
Outraged by the insolent question Gendry stared at the prince. “I don't think that's any of your concern.“  
Aegon gave a cruel grin. The violet almond shaped eyes were glinting dangerously. “So you did? Doesn't surprise me that a bastard is eager to sire more bastards.“  
Gendry clenched his fists and bestirred himself not to punch the prince's complacent face. “Piss off, Aegon, before I'll kill you,“  
Gendry's threat only served to spur Aegon on. “Pray tell me, Lord Gendry, is she as wild in bed? Does she bite and scratch like the wolf bitch she is?“  
The fury provoked by Aegon's unpardonable insults struck Gendry and he was no longer able to control himself. He grabbed Aegon, who was shorter than Gendry, by his collar and lifted him from the ground.  
“Why so angry, _Baratheon?_ “, Aegon spat at him. He uttered the name full of despise, his voice sharp as a blade. “Or is she rather fucked by dogs?“  
Gendry emitted an angry cry and shoved Aegon to the ground. He was bristling with rage. The wrath was like sparkling electricity on his skin. It was making him dizzy. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly before he would actually kill the Targaryen prince.  
“Talk so much as once again of her and you'll never again display that cocky smile of yours. This I promise you, _Your Grace._ “  
Gendry knew menacing Aegon was unwise. Even if his aunt chose not to punish Gendry for his assault, Aegon had the Golden Company behind him. The company of sellswords had sworn their allegiance to Aegon and had ever been loyal to him. They had once taken the Stormlands and Storm's End, the place he was holding now. He swallowed and made an effort to calm down.  
Aegon grinned darkly. “Threatening your prince, Lord Gendry? This is treason. But I guess that's in your blood.“  
“Leave,“ Gendry said through gritted teeth. “Leave, before I can no longer help myself.“  
Aegon broke into a fit of laughter and stood up from the ground. He brushed off the dirt from his clothes and Gendry braced himself for more insults. The dragon prince merely huffed at him contemptuously and left Gendry to brood.  
Gendry had never gotten along well with Aegon Targaryen. However, this had been the first time Aegon had affronted him so openly.  
Aegon had infuriated Gendry to such an extent, that he knew he would have been ready to harm the prince. Perhaps Aegon was right. Perhaps it was in his blood. His father, Robert Baratheon, had killed Rhaegar Targaryen, who was the father of Aegon. He shuddered at the thought of how similar their stories seemed. However, Aegon was not Rhaegar. Although they said Aegon had his looks, Rhaegar had been different. People had loved Rhaegar, the Silver Prince. The gallant and valiant knight who had sung. Aegon on the other hand was arrogant, conceited and hotheaded. If someone was like Rhaegar, then it would be his other son Jon.  
And yet his father had slain the well-loved dragon prince. _Why would the dragon and the stag always fight?_ , he wondered. _Is it our blood? Is it our fate?_  
Rhaelle, Gendry's great grandmother on his father's side, had been a Targaryen. It could not be the blood, for they were sharing blood ties, albeit distant. And Gendry was not Robert. He ought not to repeat the same mistake.

***

“What's with the sour face?“, Arya asked when she found him not much later sitting on a bench in front of Maegor's Holdfast.  
“Had an unpleasant encounter with that prick of a prince. Gods help me, Westeros would be better off if Jon soon had an heir.“  
Arya sat next to him. “Ah, yes, the arsehole was staring at me earlier as if I was marked with smallpox.“  
Gendry looked at her, the corners of his mouth turned down. “If he dares to lay a finger on you, I will break his neck.“  
Arya huffed at him annoyed. “I can take care of myself well enough. I don't need _you_ to protect me.“  
“I know that, Arya,“ he snapped at her. “Still I'd kill him,“ he frowned as he saw Arya grinning mischievously at him. “What's it now?“  
“If I didn't know better, I'd say you're jealous,“ she smirked. Gendry narrowed his eyes at her and refused to reply to her remark. “Perhaps I want to be touched by Aegon? _Queen Arya_. Doesn't that have a nice ring to it?“  
He knew she was teasing, for she shared his dislike for Aegon Targaryen. Yet the thought of him wedding Arya made him fume. Abruptly Gendry stood up and grabbed Arya by her arm to pull her up.  
“What are you doing, stupid?“, she said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.  
Gendry dragged her along with him and entered Maegor's Holdfast. He ignored her protests until he had found a small storeroom inside the fortress where he thought they would not be seen.  
He pushed Arya against the stone wall and without a word pressed his lips on hers. Arya immediately responded to his kiss, opening her mouth and let their tongues fight for dominance. She moaned and arched her back to press her chest into his. Gendry's hands wandered along her body, more demanding than the last time. He cupped her breasts, touched her hips and grabbed her bottom. He let his hands slide down the back of Arya's thighs. She then put her arms around his neck and hopped to wrap her legs around his waist.  
Gendry broke their kiss to put his lips on her cheeks, on her jaw and down her neck. He sucked on the delicate skin, leaving a mark, a vow for everybody to see that she was his. He was indifferent of the rumours he would cause as he yielded to the desire of his body.  
His kisses became frantic again. His firm grip, as if scared the girl would dissolve inside his embrace. He breathed in the smell of her skin and her hair, anxious to remember. The sweet smell of grass and wood. The smell of Arya.  
“Come. To my chamber,“ Arya said breathless.  
Gendry let her slide down on her feet again. “No,“ he stated firmly.  
The dissatisfaction with his reply was written all over her face and it made Gendry chuckle. “Why not?“  
“I won't be able to control myself.“  
She grinned and kissed him again. Her hand slid down between his legs, making him groan. “I better hope you won't.“  
He remembered Aegon's words and the bastards he might father if he gave in to Arya. “No, Arya,“ he gave her another lingering kiss. “I can't.“  
“What do you mean you can't? I feel you're hard for me, so why won't you fuck me?“ Gendry felt his cheeks redden at her brazen words. He began to stammer but Arya cut him off. “Stop blushing like a bloody maid.“  
Gendry laughed a little and gathered his courage. “I want all of you, Arya.“  
Arya furrowed her brows, while his lips were brushing her cheeks again. “All of me?“  
“Yes, all of you. I don't want to just fuck you. I want all of you. I want to sleep and wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life. Marry me, Arya Stark.“  
Arya groaned. “Arya _Baratheon_. That sounds even worse than Queen Arya.“  
Gendry sighed, foreboding her refusal. “I love you, Arya, and I want you to become my wife.“  
He saw her biting the inside of her cheek, perhaps contemplating the proposal, perhaps wondering how to escape. She then gave him a sympathetical smile.“I'm sorry Gendry. I don't want to marry anybody. Never.“  
Her answer hardly surprised Gendry, but the peremptoriness of her voice stung him. He tried to shake it off and pulled her to him, burying his face once again in the crook of her neck. It made her giggle and he looked up to her frowning. It must have been the first time he had heard her emitting such a sound.  
She bit her lower lip. “You should reconsider... Coming to my chamber I mean.“  
He laughed out loud before he resumed kissing her.  
It was in this moment that he swore to himself to never let go Arya Stark again. 


	11. The Loosened Brick

Inside the Great Hall the feast was in full swing. Gendry was talking to some westerland lady, oblivious to the way her eyes were roaming his body and the way she was batting her eyelashes at him. It was ridiculous.

He was not even aware of the women ogling him or of the glares Arya shot him and the lady he was talking to. But what irritated Arya the most was how much it infuriated her. She was leaning against the back of her chair with her arms and legs crossed, gritting her teeth whenever a girl so much as greeted him. 

“The Lord of Storm's End is rather popular with the ladies,“ Jon said as he sat down to the empty seat next to Arya. He poured himself a cup of Arbor gold and brought the liquor to his lips. Carefully Arya fixed her braid that was hanging over her right shoulder to hide the mark Gendry had left there. “He's not only lord of the Stormlands but a good warrior and quite handsome, too.“

Arya huffed and stretched out her legs under the table. “Good for him. He can ring all the bells he wants.“

“You're giving him your blessings then?“, Jon asked her with a smirk

“What does it matter? I don't care who he's bedding.“ In spite of herself Arya's eyes darted back to Gendry and the woman. Although Gendry seemed uncomfortable during the conversation, Arya curled her lips into a snarl when the woman gigglingly placed her hand on Gendry's arm. Jon followed Arya's gaze and chuckled.

“Why's it then, you've spent the entire feast scowling at the women talking to him?“

“I did not,“ Arya snapped at him. Too late she noticed the too prominent indignation in her voice. 

“But you are. Right now you're looking daggers at that westerland girl.“

Arya rolled her eyes. “Look, Jon, I honestly don't care who Gendry's fucking or not. Anyway, I'm leaving to get some fresh air.“ She got up from her chair, the legs scraped nosily on the stone ground, and she stomped out of the Great Hall.

 

As Arya exited the hall she leaned against the balcony and looked at the inner courtyard of Maegor's Holdfast. She was annoyed by all the silly giggling and twittering and by the jealousy she was feeling, of which she hoped would vanish as soon as she had sobered up. When she heard footsteps approaching, she caught herself hoping it was Gendry. It was not Gendry, though. It was Aegon, who seemed to have had one cup of wine too many.

“Ah,“ Aegon said with his arms extended. “If it isn't Arya Stark of Winterfell. Princess of the wolves, liberator of the North and every lord's nightmare.“

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If it isn't Aegon Targaryen, the pirate boy, the cocky silver prince with a stick up his arse.“

“Lady Arya, how mean of you“, he smirked. “Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, conqueror of the Seven Kingdoms, rider of dragons and rightful heir to the Iron Throne. That would be more suitable.“

“Quite pretentious, aren't we?“

“Just speaking the truth,“ he flashed a smile and his purple eyes seemed to flare in the moonlight. Aegon stepped up to Arya and took her hand to kiss it. Perplexed Arya pulled the hand away to wipe it off on her thigh. Instead of being offended, Aegon grinned at her.

“So why are you leaving? Are you not pleased with the feast my dear aunt is holding for you?“

Feeling uneasy with the proximity, Arya moved a few steps away from the prince. Ignoring the hint, Aegon approached her again. “I'm not too fond of feasts, no,“ she told him.

“So where were you going? Mind if I walk with you a little?“

“Actually I do. I'd prefer to be myself. Thank you.“

To Arya's confusion a hurt expression crossed Aegon's face. He pursed his lips and stroke her face with the back of his hand. “Why are you denying me, Lady Arya?“

“I'm no lady, Prince Aegon. And I don't know what you mean.“

“But I like the sound of it,“ his lips formed into a smug smile. “Lady. _My_ Lady.“

“I'm certainly not _your_ lady,“ she scoffed and pushed him. Although intoxicated he did not so much as stagger.

“No?“, Aegon laughed and pointed at the lovebite on her neck. “Lord Baratheon's then?“

“I don't think that's any of your concern. Now leave me be. I've enough of you...,“ before she could finish the sentence, Aegon grabbed her wrist. She tried to free herself from his grip but Aegon was surprisingly strong. “Let me go, you prick.“

Suddenly Aegon pushed her into the column behind her and firmly grabbed her face between his fingers. “You bitch,“ he hissed through gritted teeth. “You fucking wolf bitch. You speak vulgar like a whore. You dress like a man and act like a common peasant. By the seven, I _despise_ you,“ his mouth was next to her ear and she felt his hot breath on her skin, forcing her flesh to crawl. However, not in the way of excitement it did, when Gendry was touching her. “You, who bears her face. Tell me, Stark, why is it your face that haunts me in my dreams? Those eyes of yours are burning into my soul. It's as if you were the fire and not me. And it is I who's melting like ice.“  
Aegon pressed his body against hers. She could feel the bulge in his crotch growing. He darted his tongue out to taste the skin of her neck. “I want you, bitch. I want to taste you. I want to _have_ you. Choose me. I am the dragon. What do you want with the stag?“

Arya had had enough of it and pulled out the dagger that was straped to her thigh and pressed it against his throat. “Back off, Aegon. You will never have me. Not while my body is still drawing breath.“ 

“This is treason, Lady Arya,“ he grinned and moved his face all the more to her. The blade bored into his skin. He seemed to trust she would not harm him. 

“Aegon, _back off,_ “ she snarled but Aegon only grinned and licked his lips.

Suddenly he was pulled away from her. He fell to the ground as he was punched to the face.

“Baratheon,“ Aegon hissed. His violet eyes were flickering with hate. “You shall burn for this.“

“Go on. Tell the queen why I punched you, you fool. I wont let you touch Lady Arya even if it means I will burn. But before I will kill you myself.“ 

Aegon scrambled up from the ground and squared his shoulders. He shot a fierceful glare first to Gendry then to Arya before he walked back to the ballroom.

“You're so stupid,“ Arya shouted. She was angry that Gendry had interfered. “I wasn't in need of your help. I had it under control.“

“By slitting his throat?“, Gendry snapped back at her. 

A bit startled by the livid tone in his voice, she folded her arms and pressed her lips together. “He wouldn't have harmed me anyway.“

“I've told you, if he'd ever dare to touch you, I'll kill him,“ he growled, staring towards the direction to which Aegon had left. Then he turned back to Arya and studied her with concern on his face. “Did he hurt you?“ 

“As if that cunt could hurt me,“ she huffed. “What do you care, anyway? Go back to your westerland whore.“

“Who are you talking about?“, he frowned.

“That wench whose bell you want to ring. Or she wants to ring yours. I don't know.“

Gendry rolled his eyes and then laughed. “So I wasn't imagining the murderous glare someone was shooting at me? It made me shiver, I tell you,“ unamused Arya narrowed her eyes at him. He snorted at her expression and offered her his arm, before she could form another insult for him. “Come, I'll escort you to your chamber.“

At first Arya wanted to protest, but to her own surprise she kept her mouth shut. Although she did not take his arm, she nodded and led the way to her chamber inside Maegor's Holdfast with Gendry following behind.

 

Gendry walked with her past the Queen's guards but stopped at the doorway as soon as they reached Arya's chamber.

Arya entered her room and grabbed one candle to hold the wick into the kindled fireplace. She then continued to light the other candles positioned on the windowsill and on her bed stand. “Are you coming in or not?“, she asked Gendry, who was still standing at her threshold.

He blushed and cleared his throat. “Good night, my Lady.“

Arya heaved a sigh. “Gods, you're so annoying.“ Before he was able to retreat, she reached him and grabbed his collar to pull him down for a kiss. 

“The guards,“ he broke their kiss to warn her. “What will they think if they see us?“

“I don't care about the guards,“ Arya had to rise up on her tiptoes to reach his lips, but Gendry kept pulling away. Exasperated with his reluctance she pulled on his shirt and tried to lead him into the room. “Come inside.“

“No,“ he grunted.

She knew he wanted her. It was visible in his darkened eyes, audible in his husky voice. And Arya wanted him, too. She did not know if it was the wine that was inspiring her, but something inside of her had been ignited. It had begun with their first kiss and it had been slowly growing with every of his touches until it had become almost unbearable, when they were kissing in the storeroom the other day. She would not let him go now. At least not until that yearning had been satisfied. “Stop being so bloody stubborn,“ she urged as her impatience was growing. “Or is it this other lady you want?“

Gendry did not give her an answer, instead he went towards the door again. Arya opened her mouth to shout at him, only to realise that he was locking the door. When he turned around his lips were back on hers in an instant. She managed to pull his tunic out of his breeches and when she let her hands slide over his stomach, she moaned at the warm skin and the firm muscles she was feeling. When she attempted to pull his tunic over his head he stopped her. Quickly Arya's fingers went down to fiddle with the laces of his breeches. As he slapped her hands away, she turned the game around and with a swift move she had taken off her own tunic.

She saw the flicker in his eyes, when he stared at her bare flat stomach and the swell of her breasts, that were hidden under a layer of bandages. She unfastened her belt and was thankful Gendry was not running away, but stood frozen watching her. She took of the trousers and when she was standing in her smallclothes, trying to get rid of them as well, Gendry gave up his struggle and took of his shirt. 

He crushed her hard against him and pressed his lips down on hers. Eagerly Arya greeted his tongue with hers. By now she had become accustomed to his kisses. However, they were not sufficient anymore. She needed more. She needed to feel him. She had seen him naked before, when they were children. It was different now. His body aroused her and she was finally able to touch it. Her hands moved from his strong arms, to his stomach, to his broad back. She felt his fingers wandering down her spine and she shivered. His hands were strong and calloused. The hands of a workman. The hands of a warrior. But it did not matter. She liked the feel of it. A loud moan escaped her, as he grabbed her bottom with both of his hands. The feeling between her legs was getting more and more excruciating. 

“We shouldn't,“ Gendry suddenly interrupted again.

Annoyed Arya threw her head back and groaned. “Seven buggering hells, Gendry.“

“I don't want to put a bastard in you,“ he said pointing to her belly. 

“Then don't“, Arya whimpered and tucked on his trousers.

“Arya you have to understand. I can't father any bastards. I don't want to. Never.“

“You're so stupid. That's your problem? There's moon tea, Gendry. I will drink moon tea and your problem will be solved,“ she gave him an innocent smile and watched him considering. He had his deep frown again, as if thinking was giving him a headache. Arya rolled her eyes and took of her bandages to reveal her breasts. Gendry snapped his head to her and she saw him marvelling at the sight. Content with his reaction she bit her lower lip. It was then, when he stopped his pondering and pushed her to the bed. 

He placed kisses on her jaw, neck and on her collarbone, while one of his hands was sliding down her leg. The other was cupping her breast. Arya buried her hand into Gendry's hair and involuntarily pressed her hips against his. She felt his erection through his woollen breeches. It was rubbing against her damp smallclothes and it made her feel dizzy. Gendry's mouth reached her breast. He teased one nipple with his tongue and sucked and nibbled on it, while he pinched the other with his fingers. The sensation of his mouth on the sensitive skin made her moan loudly and goosebumps were forming on her entire body. His hand wandered down into her smallclothes. She hissed through her teeth, as his fingers touched her wetness. Again her hips were rubbing against his hand and then he let one finger slide into her. The feeling was new, a little odd perhaps and yet she was aching for more.

She sat up, with his fingers still inside her and grabbed the fabric of his breeches. “Take this off,“ she begged him.

Gendry grinned. He had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “As m'lady commands,“ he let go of her and began to loosen his laces.

“You're not funny, Gendry,“ Arya said frustrated and stripped off the last of her clothing. 

He immediately stopped his japing as he saw her lying naked beneath him. She had trouble interpreting his expression, that was switching between lust, nervousness, awe and uncertainty. Fearing he would panic and retreat, she took one of his hands and intertwined their fingers. His face softened as she gave him an assuring smile. “I love you,“ Gendry told her and bent down for another kiss, chaste and gentle. 

They way he looked at her made her feel almost beautiful. Although she was divested and uncovered she did not feel hideous. When he looked at her, she was able to relax. “I know. Now take this off already.“

He did as he was bid and when he was finally naked above her, Arya was surprised by the size of his member. She had seen it before, though never erect. It scared her a little, but her desire, her need for him, prevailed. 

Gendry positioned himself between her legs. “Have you lain with a man before?“, he asked with a little falter in his voice.

Arya shook her head no. “And you?“

He was blushing furiously and Arya wondered if he did so, because he was embarrassed to admit that he had had other women before. “No,“ he said eventually. Oddly enough, she felt relief at his confession. She would claim him for herself. The idea satisfied her. “There was... I was... never...“

“Alright, stop stuttering,“ she interrupted his nervous attempt to explain himself.

He nodded and she felt the tip of him at her entrance. Slowly and carefully he entered her. It stung and Arya screwed up her face. Gendry tensed and held still. 

“Go on,“ Arya told him determinedly. “I don't want you to stop.“

He continued and when he was completely sheathed inside her, he waited for her to adjust to the feeling. It hurt more than she had expected, nevertheless she felt comfortable with him above her. The warmth his skin was radiating and the love and concern his eyes were expressing, were soothing her. 

He started to thrust into her. Slowly at first, gradually quickening. Soon the pain was gone and she began to join into his movements. She heard him whispering her name in to her ear, like a prayer on his lips. In a frenzy she drove her nails into the skin of Gendry's back and scratched down from his shoulderblades to his bottom cheeks. He cried out in a mix of ecstasy and pain. 

Her moans grew louder, soon transforming into screams of pleasure. She was sure the guards could hear their grunts and moans, the squeaking of the bed, but she did not care. She did not care if the whole Red Keep was hearing them. 

Arya had known lust. She had seen it in the brothels of Braavos. She had known what it looked like to lay with a man, but she had never understood what it meant. Only now she had come to realise, why all were longing to do so. Laying with Gendry made her feel fulfilled. As if she had finally found a missing part of her, she had never known of. Him being inside her was like two fitting pieces. It was right. It was perfect. She comprehended what it meant to be a woman. What it meant to be a lover. To desire, to devote oneself. It frightened her. All that she was feeling overwhelmed her. She feared if she would give in into the illusion, it would devour her. The walls that she had built up around herself in the years past threatened to disintegrate. If she would let them crumble down, she would be exposed. She would remain vulnerable and unsheltered. _What if he chose to leave me?_ , she thought anxiously. _He says he loves me, but does he love what I've become? He left me once, he might as well leave me again. Only this time it would destroy me._

“Tell me you're mine,“ Arya commanded him and grabbed a tuft of his jetblack hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Say it.“

Gendry stared at her. The pupils of his dark blue eyes dilated. “I'm yours,“ he finally said and pressed his lips on hers. “And you are mine. Say it.“

His response irritated her and at first she was hesitant to comply with him. “I'm yours,“ Arya told him suddenly. She did not know what had come over her. Her lips seemed to move on her own, against her rationality. Though as she had spoken the words, she felt no rue. “And you are mine.“ He was hers and she was his. At that moment it felt right.

When he smiled, she thought she saw tears glistening in his eyes. Gendry quickened his speed. He thrusted into her, deeper, harder, eliciting louder screams of pleasure from her. He pressed his thumb to the nub above her sex and began rubbing it. Her release came shortly afterwards. It started as a tickling feeling at her feet, creeping up her legs. The tickling soon exploded and scorched her entire body like wildfire. She had no more control over her body, as she cried out and squirmed. Her womb was crampening and she was shivering and shuddering. Gendry pulled out of her to spill his seed on her belly and collapsed on top of her.

They lay there for a while, both scant of breath. His weight did not crush her, it encased her with security. She felt his heart pounding against his chest. Loud and strong. Still drunken from their act she thought of telling him how she felt, but before she was able to speak, Gendry got up. He looked around her room until he found a bowl of cold water and some cloth. Then he returned to her and gently cleaned the blood from her thighs and his seed from her belly.

“The sheets are ruined,“ he observed. Then he frowned and dropped his head. “I took your maidenhead,“ the regret in his voice made her heart sink. “I shouldn't have done this. I'm sorry.“

“Was it not good for you?“, asked Arya. “Did I do it wrong?“

“No,“ he shook his head and sat down on the bed. “You are perfect, Arya. But I've ruined you.“

_I'm already ruined,_ she thought as she studied his concerned expression. “And you are stupid. How could something that felt so good ruin me?“

Gendry's face lit up again. “So you liked it?“

“I did. Though I do feel a little sore down there,“ he smiled and placed a kiss on her thigh. 

“So,“ Arya said, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Can we do this again?“

When Gendry responded with a laugh, she noticed the crinkles that were forming around his eyes. She scrunched her nose at the feeling in her belly the sight of it was causing.

“I'd gladly do this for the rest of our lives, m'lady,“ she grimaced at his mawkishness, “But you need to wait a little. I need to take a break first.“

Arya plumped down again, wondering how long this break of his would take. They kept silent for a while, whilst Gendry's fingers were drawing patterns on her stomach and chest. Her nipples grew hard again.

“Come with me to Storm's End,“ Gendry said eventually. “Hot Pie's also there.“

“I thought he was at that inn.“

“Yes, but I took him with me to Storm's End. To bake me pies.“

Arya punched his arm. “You tricked me! I can't believe you,“ he laughed throatily and Arya could not help but answer with a laughter of her own. 

Gendry put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. Feeling content, she snuggled up against his chest. “Come with me,“ he begged again, tenderly kissing her upper arm. “I want to show you the Stormlands before you leave.“

“I'm not leaving yet, Gendry. Although I believe Aegon has a mission of spoiling my mood.“

“Please Arya.“

She let her head fall back into the pillows. “Alright,“ she sighed. “I'll go with you then, stupid.“

Gendry's grin threatened to split his face in half.

***

Early the next morning Arya went to Samwell Tarly's chamber beneath the rookery. She knocked on his door and waited. _Perhaps he's still asleep,_ she thought. Samwell had attended the feast, as well. Arya had watched him gulping down wine and gobbling ham and cheese and other dainties with a seemingly endless appetite. “Open up, Samwell Tarly,“ she hammered her fist against the wooden door. “I need to speak with you.“

She heard heavy and hurried footsteps and then the door cracked open. “Lady Arya?“, the fat maester asked in astonishment. He was dressed thus he had not been sleeping. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What is the matter?“ 

“I need to ask you a favour. Can I come in?“

Samwell's moon shaped face looked at her in confusion, before he bowed his head and let her in. A thick book laid open on a round table in the middle of his room. Arya took her time surveying his room, fascinated by the amount of books Samwell was possessing.

“Did you read all of that?“, she asked awed. When Arya was a child, she had preferred playing outside to reading and then the war had come and there had been no time to read.

“Not all yet,“ Samwell replied and gave her a timid smile. Although he had accomplished to become Grand Maester, a position normally reserved for the most senior member of the Order of Maesters, he still seemed always unsure of himself. “So what is this favour you need to ask of me, Lady Arya?“

“Moon tea,“ Arya told him. “I need moon tea.“

For a moment Samwell stared at her with bulged eyes until he nodded in understanding and went to a shelf to fetch five little jars and an empty bowl, which he brought to the round table. He mixed four different herbs in the bowl and then added a spoon of honey. “It's for you, right? Do you need to drink it now?“ Arya chewed on her lip and nodded. “I need to fetch boiled water from the kitchen then. Stay here.“

About ten minutes had passed until Samwell Tarly returned with a pan of hot steaming water. He filled the bowl with the water and told her the tea needed to steep a couple of minutes. The two of them waited in awkward silence until Samwell decided the drink was ready. He took a sieve, poured the tea into a mug and offered it to Arya. Taking the mug she thanked him and blew to cool the liquid down. As she took the first sip, she noticed the bitter taste, but drinking it was indispensable. Last night she had lain with Gendry two more times and again when she had woken up at dawn. Although she had assured Gendry to drink moon tea, so he would not need to interrupt the act, he had remained stubborn and refused to finish inside her.

“I need more,“ Arya said as she finished the tea. “To take with me, I mean.“

“How much?“

“I'm not sure. Enough for a sennight perhaps. Until I reach Storm's End.“

She saw Tarly grinning to himself but she did not comment on it further. At least he was not asking any questions. Once more he mixed the herbs into a pouch and handed it and the honey jar over to her, while explaining how much she needed for a cup and how often she should drink it. 

“Thank you, Maester Tarly. I owe you,“ Arya hid the pouch inside her leather jerkin and walked off. However, when she reached the door she turned around again. “Please, don't tell Jon.“

“I promise you, I won't,“ he gave her a knowing smile and Arya decided to trust him.

 

Arya returned to her room to pack her bag. Gendry and her had decided to leave on that day, for he had only come to King's Landing for the feast and Arya was free to leave whenever she wanted.

Looking at the bloodied sheets reminded Arya of the night before and it brought a warm feeling to her stomach. She had lost her maidenhead to Gendry, but she did not regret it a bit. Although she felt sore and exhausted she would love to lie again with him. Unfortunately the idiot had sneaked out of her chamber in the morning, hoping that after the feast the attendants would have to sleep longer, so he would not be caught. Arya had told him it was unnecessary, after all the guards had seen him anyway. But he would not listen, only talk about honour and virtue and unseemly behaviour. Arya did not really care what others thought of her. But it did matter to Gendry and truth be told, she did not really fancy talking with Jon about her and Gendry, so she had let him go in the end.

When Gendry and Arya later went the to queen and Jon, who were present at the throne room, to inform them about their departure, Arya was fearing she would have to talk with Jon after all. 

Queen Daenerys was sitting on the Iron Throne, all in emerald silk and colourful jewels around her neck and her wrists. However, she looked pale and tired from the night before. Jon looked slightly better. He was sitting on the stars that led to the throne with Ghost's head on his lap. Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

“I hope you came to discuss pleasant matters,“ Daenerys greeted them, rubbing her temples.

“You don't have to worry, Your Grace,“ Arya said. “I only came to see my cousin off.“

“Wherefore?“, asked Jon.

Arya glanced at Gendry before she addressed Jon again. “I've decided to visit Storm's End.“

Jon flashed a grin and the queen too smiled, seeming pleased with herself. Then Jon stood up and called Gendry over to quietly tell him something Arya could not hear. She rolled her eyes as she saw Gendry blushing furiously. 

Jon stepped up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I wish you a pleasant journey then, dear cousin.“ 

“Wipe that grinn off of your face,“ Arya scolded him, but merely achieved the opposite. She rolled her eyes, half-heartedly bowed her head to the queen and left.

 

“I'm very glad you've decided to come with me,“ Gendry told her on their way to the stables to saddle their horses.

Arya gave him a pointed look. “Don't be smug about it. I'm only interested to see the Stormlands.“

Jon had given Arya a young dapple grey mare to her disposal. She would have preferred to ride on Nymeria again, but the direwolf was at the Riverlands, leading her pack. Arya wondered if the day would come, when Nymeria would abandon her pack and stay at her side for good. _Why would she? I've abandoned her once. I threw rocks at her and sent her away. Although it was for her own good._ Arya liked her mare though. It had a curious nature and looked at her with black knowing eyes. Gendry's steed had a smoky black coat colour, with a raven-black tail and crest. It was big and muscular, much as Gendry himself. She remembered his poor riding skills before he had become a lord and laughed to herself.

“What's your horse's name?“, asked Arya, petting the dark steed's muzzle. It responded with a whinny. 

“Mors,“ Gendry said, as he fastened his bag to the saddle.

“Mors?“, Arya sneered and bestrode her horse with an easy grace. Her mare was much smaller than Gendry's, but she appeared more swift and agile than his. “If you wanted someone to keep Nymeria company, you should've gotten yourself a direwolf.“

She ignored the scowl he gave her and they left King's Landing together with a handful of Gendry's men, who had accompanied him. 

 

On the first night they made camp in the Kingswood a few leagues north of the Wendwater. Arya had placed her bedroll next to Gendry's, but she waited for the men's snoring before she began to creep into Gendry's furs. 

“No,“ Gendry stopped her attempt. “They can hear us, Arya.“

“They're asleep.“ 

“Not the one who's keeping watch.“

Instead of being deterred, she reached under his furs and rubbed her hand on his cock till it hardened.

“Arya stop!“, he hissed, but when she slipped her hand into his breeches and began to stroke him, he lifted his bedcover for her and she quickly crawled in. Lying on top of him, she wriggled out of her breeches and pulled his down. 

“We can't...“, she silenced Gendry with a kiss and positioned herself over him, so the tip of his cock was at her entrance. She lowered herself down until all of him was inside her. Gendry groaned and his hands went to her hips and Arya began to slowly lift herself up and slide down again. When Arya moaned a little too loud, Gendry rolled them over and pressed his hand on her mouth. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and kept pushing hard into her. The stifled moans against his palm aroused Arya only more and she began to tremble from pleasure and excitement. Her release came soon, spiralling through her body like jolts of lightning. Gendry pumped into her once, twice, thrice more, until a deep growl rumbled from his chest and he finished inside her. 

“I'm sorry,“ he said panting for breath and rolled off her. His seed trickled down her thighs, mixed with her own wetness. It felt sticky, but she liked having the result of his pleasure between her legs. “I lost my control.“

“You need not worry,“ Arya said. “I drank moon tea this morning. I've brought with me more.“

Gendry pulled her close and before long both were fallen asleep.

***

They passed the Wendwater, Bronzegate, hills and mountains, deep green forests, until one afternoon the castle of Storm's End appeared gloomily in front of them. Living up to it's name it was teeming down on that day. Heavy thunder boomed from the black sky and the rain was splashing heavily against the thick round walls of the fortress. The wind was lushing violently against the travellers, forcing them to tread their path only laboriously. The horses whinnied nervously. Arya could hear the waves hitting against the cliffs and she tasted the salt in the air.

“That's not a great first impression,“ Gendry shouted out to her through the heavy raindrops. 

Arya tried to brush away the wet hair that was whipping her face. “It's a little stormy,“ she agreed. “But we're almost there.“

The gates opened as soon as the guards spotted their lord and his companions and for the first time Arya laid her eyes on the dark and massive fortress with its huge drum tower. Gendry asked her if she would prefer her own chamber, but Arya decided to share a room with Gendry and thus told him to lead her to the lord's chambers, that were located on a higher floor of the tower. Gendry blushed, but at the same time seemed pleased with her suggestion. 

The lord's chambers of Storm's End were a large room with a view of the rocky coast of Shipbreaker's Bay. Carpets, woven with yellow, golden, black and brown thread adorned the walls and the floor. Two small stone steps led to a big featherbed. Aditionally the chamber had a seperate dressing room, with a bronze bath tub. Arya thought the room was a little too fancy, but nice enough. After all she would merely spend a limited time there. 

Arya hurriedly changed into dry clothes and was ready to explore the castle. After so many years she was looking forward to meet Hot Pie. The kitchens were located in a building joined to the tower.

 

“Back already?“, the fat baker's boy asked as he saw Gendry walking into the kitchen. When he noticed Arya, his eyes narrowed and then widened in recognition and disbelief. “Arry?“, he asked gaping at her. “Seven Hells, it's really you. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Winterfell.“

“I see you're still as stupid as you're fat,“ Arya replied with a laugh. “I was in King's Landing with my cousin Jon. Gendry told me you'd be here so I agreed to visit Storm's End.“

“So you're leaving again?“, Hot Pie asked mirthlessly. Briefly Arya was at a loss for words. She would leave eventually, but she had not planned her departure yet. She nodded and opened her mouth to speak.

“Hot Pie's baking the best pies,“ Gendry beat her to a reply. “It seems while others were fighting in the war, he was busy eating and baking. You should try them.“ 

Hot Pie gave him an annoyed glance and Arya stifled a laugh. The carefree atmosphere elated her. Years ago they had gotten to know each other under dreadful circumstances, but now they were able to laugh again. She savoured the moment. Once she had considered the two boys, or rather two men, her pack and now they were together again. “I don't think I've ever tried them. I'd love to.“ 

 

The three of them kept chattering for another hour. When they had finished exchanging their experiences and Arya was stodged with pie and pastry, Hot Pie told them he had work to do and they left. The rain had eased off a little and Gendry was showing her around the courtyard. Across the yard Arya noticed the forge. “Do you still have time for blacksmithing?“

“I still forge things sometimes,“ Gendry told her. “Storm's End has its own smith, so I'm only doing it because I like it and I'm good at it. Come, let me show you,“ he took her by her hand and led her to the forge. There was no one inside and the fire was cold. Proudly Gendry showed her around and diligently explained his works to her. The bull helmet he had worn on their way to Winterfell, daggers made of dragonglass, small, delicate other objects like ornaments and decorations. She spied a thin, slender sword hanging on the wall. “This looks like Needle,“ Arya said astonished.

“I remembered when you lost it to Polliver. I made a new one and thought I'd give it back to you when I see you the next time. But somehow you had already retrieved it on your own.“

At that moment something stirred inside Arya. His proposition affected her deeply. She realised that Gendry actually cared for her. She felt funny. Her stomach flipped and her heart was racing. A warmth was creeping up her cheeks. She did not deserve this affection, this benevolence. _I'm Arya Stark,_ she thought. _The wolf girl. The assassin. The killer. How could he possibly love me?_

“Are you alright?“, Gendry asked her with a frown. 

Arya snapped out of her thoughts and forced a smile to her face. The rainfall had increased again. Gendry studied her with a concerned expression and all she could think of was that she wanted to feel him again. “Let's go back to your chamber, shall we?“

Gendry smiled. A warm, caring smile, but there was worry in his blue eyes. He took her hand again and they left for the tower.

***

“Stay with me,“ Gendry breathed into her hair, as they lay entangled within the sheets of his featherbed. “Stay with me here, Arya.“

Arya was still flushed with heat from their lovemaking. Earlier she had urged him to take her hard and intense. She had needed him deep inside her. She had needed his strong arms around her, holding her tightly, as he was whispering sweet promises into her ear. She had needed it all to feel real. The night had fallen and through the window the moonlight was illuminating their sweaty bodies. 

Lying with him inside this intimate embrace, naked and satisfied, felt wonderful. She wished she would never have to leave this bed again. But Arya knew she had to. “I still have things to do. I can't stay. You know I can't.“

“Cersei?“, he asked catching her unawares. From her expression he must have noticed that he had hit the mark. “You are still thinking of killing her. Why?“

“Because I have to.“

“That's nonsense, Arya,“ she wriggled out of his arms, angry that he dared to call her actions into question. The single and only reason that all along had motivated her to carry on. Gendry flung an arm around her waist, so she was not able to flee. “The war is over. Cersei has payed for what she's done. Everybody has found his peace. Jon, Sansa, your brothers, even Nymeria. It is now time for you to find peace. You're still unable to see what you have. People who love you, people who care for you, you're disregarding them. You're yet nurtured by hatred and vengeance, but it threatens to consume you. Sooner or later you will lose it all. You have to let go, Arya, before you're going to lose yourself completely.“ 

Tears pricked her eyes. Tears of anger, tears of desperation, she could not tell. If she would let go as he suggested, nothing would remain for her. All these years revenge was her sole purpose. She survived and lived through everything, only because she was holding on to the promise to avenge those she had loved and lost. So many nights her prayer had accompanied her. Hate and wrath had been her companions all along. If they would leave her, then there would be nothing left. Only emptiness would linger within her and she would truly become no one. “What do you know? You're only a stupid bull.“

“Tell me what happened to you in Braavos,“ Gendry prompted her while running his fingers through her hair. “Tell me everything. What you did. Who you were with. I want to know.“ It was everything, she feared. Telling him about her past, and seeing the love inside his eyes turning into loathing and disgust. As if he sensed her fear, he continued to encourage her. “I love you, Arya Stark, and there's nothing that could change that. Regardless of what you've done in your past.“

Arya laid her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. _I love him_ , she realised. _And I'm scared to lose him._  
She had never told anyone, what exactly she had done when she was with the Faceless Men. Only Nymeria knew. And probably Bran. Both had not rejected her though and maybe she could confide in Gendry as well. She knew how stubborn he was. He would not cease to ask her about her past, she knew. Thus Arya took a deep breath and then she began.  
She told Gendry about Jaqen H'ghar and the coin he had given her. She told him about the House of Black and White and the Many-Faced God. She told him about who she had been, what she had done. She told him of Salty, Cat of the Canals, Beth, Mercy, _no one_.

When Arya finished, she expected Gendry to banish her. His body had tensed throughout her explanation and his arms around her had tightened. However, she saw no rejection in his eyes. Only understanding and relief. As she saw, that he still wanted her, Arya began to cry. In an instant comforting arms encased her and soothing words were breathed upon her skin. Gently Gendry kissed her tears away. “I love you, Arya,“ he said with a sincerity that awed her.

“I love you, too.“

That night she got the first good sleep ever since her father's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first time I've ever written smut. I hope you don't think it was too lowbrow...  
> Can't believe I took ten chapters for them to get it on.
> 
> And in the beginning I had no intention to give Aegon a bigger role, but I found out I like to write him. I think he'll get his own POV chapter after I've finished the main story.  
> Aegon lovers will hate me now. I swear he's not as bad as he looks like. He's drunk and confused.


	12. The Forest Lass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for taking so long to update. I had half of the chapter written down months ago but I felt I wasn't doing a good job with writing love stories and grew frustrated. Also university took over and I kind of lost focus. The chapter came out rather short as well. Sorry about it. The next chapter will be up this weekend!  
> (I know the chapter title is really imaginative)

Gendry woke up with the first rays of dawn shining faintly through the golden curtains. He got up from the bed, carefully not to wake Arya who was still fast asleep beside him, and went to the window to greet the new day.  
The black clouds had drifted away leaving a clear blue sky and the scent of wet soil was filling the air, giving Gendry a dream of spring.  
He looked back to the bed where Arya was lying sprawled out, her hair a furious mess of tangled wisps. She looked calm, her face serene and pure. Her lips were parted slightly. He wished they could forever stay like this. He wished he could wake up every day to this face, to her warm body next to his. If only she would agree to marry him.  
A few days ago he had taken her maidenhead and saying he did not regret it would make him a liar. Arya deserved better than this. Even if she did not see it that way, she was still a highborn lady. The daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, who had been Hand of the King. And Gendry, who was born a bastard, had lain with her out of wedlock, mayhaps filling her with a bastard of his own.  
Then again lying with her had been the greatest pleasure he had ever experienced in his life. Sinking into her soft warm flesh, linking their hungry bodies, giving in into each other's desires.  
He could not imagine being closer to anybody else, to share the same proximity he had shared with Arya. He knew it was her. So long as he was existing it would always be Arya.  
Gendry envisioned the moment he was lying on top of her, when her grey stormy eyes were staring back at him. Their vividness would always fill him with euphory, with love, with lust, with vitality and with a sense of home.  
He wanted her as his wife, as his lady of Storm's End. He wanted her to be the wolf of the Stormlands, the mother of his children. He could not help but imagine it. A girl with brown hair and blue eyes, wild and fearless like her mother. A boy with black hair and grey eyes, the wolf who would be his heir. He yearned so much for this idea, that he felt a clenching pain in his chest.  
He had yet to express his wish, out of fear of being too greedy, out of fear of scaring her away and losing her for good. But the past few days had been the best of his life and with each new happy memory he was creating with her, the fantasies of what might be one day were increasing.

Arya stirred in her sleep and Gendry knew she was going to wake up soon. He sat next to her on the bed and savoured the last moments of her tranquillity, indulging himself in his visions of a future with her.  
Her eyes opened slowly and as she caught sight of him her lips formed into a smile. Gendry felt the pain inside his chest yielding to a growing warmth as he saw her smiling so carefree. Last night she had told him of her experiences in Braavos. She had told him of everything she had done.  
He could not deny that listening to the extent of her actions had shocked him. It was beyond belief how much blood were on her small delicate hands. How much her silver eyes had seen.  
But he had loved her all the same, if not more for she had finally decided to trust in him. Whatever Arya would do, Gendry would love her, of that he was certain. 

“Good morning,“ he said and brought the palm of her hand to his lips. 

“Good morning,“ Arya replied, her voice still drowsy from the sleep. “Why are you up already?“

“I just woke up myself. The weather's nice today. I can show you the castle, the bay, the forest. We could ride out later if you want to.”

Arya scrunched her nose and reached for Gendry to draw him to the bed again. “Come back here,” she purred. “It's still early. There's plenty of time for riding out later. Until then I'd rather stay here with you.“

“If that's what m'lady wishes who am I to refuse her?”, he pulled away the bedcovers and lay himself down next to her. Arya giggled as he placed kisses on her neck. She was ticklish there and he adored the sound of her giggles, so he did not bother to stop. 

“Why are you still calling me that?”, she asked with much less indignation than usually. “Would a lady lie with you out of wedlock?“

Gendry did not care if she acted like a lady or not. She would always be a lady for him, the highest of all. He considered calling her _his_ lady as his own sweet prerogative. Calling her that made him feel blissful and proud. He kept it as his secret though and let his hands wander over her hips. She bit her lower lip and looked at him through her lashes, while she traced her fingertips over his chest. Whatever duties he had could be delayed for another hour, Gendry decided.

***

The two of them had broken their fast and went to the courtyard. It did not seem like it would rain for another few hours and Gendry planned to show Arya around. He wished to show her the place where he lived. The place where she would hopefully stay.  
Around them he heard raised voices and he realised that men had come to Storm's End. He recognised one of them as his castellan and went to greet him with Arya following behind.

“Davos,” Gendry said. He had not expected Davos to return for another few days. His early return made him feel nervous. Before Gendry could proceed to ask whether Ser Davos' assignment had been successful, a young man with black hair appeared next to Davos. He was staring past Gendry, his distinctive blue eyes fixed on the castle. The famous ears of House Florent and his sharp facial features were unmistakeable. From Arya's look he could tell that she too had recognised the boy for who he was. “You must be Edric then,” Gendry addressed him. “I am glad that you decided to go with Davos. I am Gendry, your half-brother.” It was odd looking at him. The mouth was the same as his, the nose as well. But the eyes were what really intrigued Gendry. It was as if his own eyes were staring back at him.

“I know who you are,” Edric finally said. Gendry flinched slightly with the sharpness of Edric's voice albeit he had suspected that their first encounter would not be easy.

“We sailed to Lys, as you instructed us to do, my Lord,” Davos began to explain. He laid his left hand on Edric's shoulder as if to soothe him. The tension left Edric's body and Gendry realised that he trusted Davos. “I knew where he was hiding and he and his protectors recognised me. They were aware of what has been happening the past few years. I told Edric that Lord Gendry, his brother, wished for him to return to Westeros, where he shall henceforth carry the name 'Baratheon'.”

“My words were true. You shall be legitimised, such as our sister Mya has been,” Gendry took another step towards his brother and offered his hand for a shake. To his surprise Edric accepted. “You're free to go wherever you want to but I welcome you to live here in Storm's End with us. You may take a wife if you like, whenever you like. You're not forced to stay but know that I bid you welcome here as a Baratheon, as my brother and my heir until I have sons of my own.”

Edric nodded and looked around the courtyard, an inscrutable expression on his face. “I grew up here, you know,” Edric began. “I've spent my childhood here in Storm's End, until Stannis came. Until Stannis and his witch killed my uncle Renly, who fostered me. Until they killed Ser Penrose. Until they took me, this castle was my home.”

Gendry pursed his lips, unsure of what to say. He had expected Edric to be discontented and angry that Gendry, the baseborn bastard that he was, was now Lord of Storm's End. He understood his resentment. Edric was, after all, the one that had been acknowledged by their father. His mother had been highborn, as well. He was the one to grow up among nobles. He should be the Lord of Storm's End.

“So?”, Arya interjected before Gendry was able to reply. “The Lannisters had tried to kill Gendry, too. He survived. He fought, at the Riverlands, at the Wall, at Winterfell, while you were hiding in Lys. You're no better than him, just because you were wearing silk since you were little. Stannis decided to make _him_ Lord of Storm's End. Also he's older than you.” Gendry had to restrain himself from kissing her in front of everybody. He took her hand in his instead, squeezing it to show his gratitude. 

Edric glared at her but turned his eyes to Gendry when he replied. “I don't want to challenge you for your right as lord. I acknowledge you as my older brother and my Lord of Storm's End.”

“You must be Lady Arya then,” Davos said and bowed his head to her. “I apologise for not greeting you earlier my Lady. I am Ser Davos, Lord Baratheon's castellan.”

“Good to meet you, Ser Davos. I've heard a lot about you from Gendry. Jon also told me, that you were the one to go look for my brother Rickon.”

“At Skagos, yes. I could not find him, but I hear he has returned to Winterfell safely.”

She smiled then and Gendry realised that Davos had won Arya's favour. “That he has. The Starks are back in Winterfell.”

“Is she your betrothed?”, Edric interrupted their conversation and beside him Gendry saw Arya rolling her eyes.

“No. She is... Well,” Gendry cleared his throat. “This is Arya Stark of Winterfell and my friend. We fled King's Landing together when the Gold Cloaks were sent after me.”  
It was apparent that Edric did not believe that Arya was a mere friend to him. It was apparent to anyone. However, he was thankful that Edric did not comment any further. Only Davos looked at the two of them, at their entwined hands, with a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Davos tells me that Shireen is Lady of Dragon Stone now. I want to visit my cousin soon. I've missed her,” as soon as he brought up Shireen, Edric's features softened. Gendry remembered that Shireen too had spoken fondly of Edric. They had spent some time together as children and despite their different nature Shireen had seen Edric as her brother.

Gendry nodded. “Of course. She sometimes visits here and you are free to visit her whenever you like.” Edric thanked him and gave a small smile. Involuntarily he smiled back at his little brother. He could not deny the joy of having kin inside his castle. _Perhaps it won't be so difficult_ , he thought. _Perhaps we'll be true brothers one day_. “I hope Alester did well?”, Gendry asked Davos.

“He did, my Lord. He was very excited to see one of the free cities. He also did really well on the ship, although he told me he preferred the life of a knight to the one of a sailor. He's still at the harbour. Helping with the ships.” 

“He admires you a lot,” Edric chimed in. “I taught him playing cyvasse on the ship. He would not stop talking about you.” 

“Cyvasse?”, Gendry asked with surprise. “The boy learned to play it? I'm amazed.”

“He's smart, my Lord,” Davos said. 

“Will you teach me, as well, Edric?”

Edric smiled again, less distant than the first time. “Of course.”

“You must be hungry and tired,” Gendry said as it occurred to him. “We have prepared your chamber. It's bigger than your old one. Will you show Edric to his room, Davos?”

“Yes, my Lord.” 

Edric thanked him again and they left Gendry and Arya alone in the courtyard. 

 

“Who is Alester?” Arya asked. 

“He's my squire. Why? Did you fear I had a son?”

“No. You told me you had no other woman before me,” she watched as Edric and Davos entered the tower.“He's nothing like you. He shares your looks, but he seems different than you. I hope that he stays truthful to his words.”

“I believe you intimidated him enough to refrain from doing otherwise. By the way, thank you for that,” Gendry kissed her then. If only on the cheek. He still remained reluctant to show his affections openly. He did not want to disgrace her, even though he knew that Arya did not care about that. “I'm happy that he's here now. It feels strange though. Having a family I mean.”

“You'll get used to it.” 

Her sanguinity made him chuckle. He offered her his arm which, to his surprise, she took for a change and they began walking around. Most of Storm's End was contained in the huge drum tower, however there were locations which could only be reached from the courtyard. He wanted to walk up the battlements with her, to show her the view over the Stormlands and the sea. Even after years the sight did not cease to captivate Gendry. He was sure that Arya would like it, as well.  
“You remember when you said that you could be my family?”, Gendry smiled at the memory and the image of her scrawny and dishevelled appearance. “At the Hollow Hill. When you wanted me to smith for your brother.”

“I remember. And I'm also aware that we'd most likely be dead, if you'd accepted.”

He had never thought of it, but she was probably right. He recalled the way he felt when he thought that he had lost her. He remembered his dread and his anguish when he had believed that Arya was gone. But for once the gods had been merciful. She was alive. And she was here with him. “I might have a family now. Siblings and cousins. But you're more family to me than they could ever be, Arya.”

Arya suddenly stopped walking and furrowed her brows. She was staring at the small copse surrounded by walls. “That's a godswood. You told me it was burned down.”

“It was Stannis' doing, yes.” He followed her when she entered the sacred site. It was nothing like the godswood of Winterfell. It would take many years before the trees would grow tall enough to loom over the walls. Solely the weirwood tree with his red crown was visible from outside. As Gendry had ordered a heart tree was brought from the Isle of Faces and planted at the centre of the grove a few weeks ago. However, it was one that had no face carved in yet. 

“You rebuilt it”, Arya stated. It was not a question but a conclusion. She stared at him with astonishment in her eyes. The disbelief and glee pictured on her face were endearing and as a response Gendry cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head to kiss her. Arya's lips immediately responded turning his chaste kiss into a demanding and fervid one. Her hands wandered over his chest, to the back of his neck and she pressed her body against him. When Gendry broke their kiss, he encased her small frame into an embrace. It pleased him to know that the godswood had made Arya happy. “Let's go away, Gendry,“ Arya murmured against his chest and put her arms around him as well. She turned her eyes up to meet his. “Let's leave Westeros. I want to go away with you. We could travel the Free Cities. I could show you Braavos. Show you the places where I spent these last years. We could travel across the red desert, to Yunkai, Meereen and Astapor. I want to see Valyria, I want to see Asshai. We could even travel to Sothoryos. We could take a ship and travel all the seas. There's so much more to see than plain Westeros. Let us leave, Gendry. Let us leave and go somewhere, where it's just you and me. Arya and Gendry. No lords and ladies, no titles and no castles. We'll be Arya and Gendry. We'll be free.“

Somewhere along her lines Gendry's heart had begun to tighten in his chest. Her words had stirred him up and had filled him with sadness. Gently his fingertips were caressing her cheek and his thumb was tracing along her bottom lip. If only he was able to fulfil her wish. If only he could leave everything behind and go with her. He wished for nothing more than to make her happy, than to spend his life with her in freedom. But they could never leave. She had family here and Gendry now had family, too. The both of them had obligations in this plain land they called home. Not for the first time did he curse his decision to become a lord. Arya would have accepted him as the baseborn bastard that he was. But a part of him knew that he would have never stopped deeming himself unworthy of her. He still did, although his title was the Stormlord. Her grey eyes were boring into his. Expectantly and hopeful.  
“I wish I could,“ his voice broke a little. “I wish I could leave with you. But I can't, Arya. I can't just do what I want to do. Not yet. Perhaps one day.“ She huffed and rested her head against his chest where his heart was thumping wildly. “We could still leave, albeit not forever. We can travel, but we need to return,“ he waited before he continued, afraid to ruin the peace with what he wanted to tell her next. “If you would only become my wife, Arya. Davos is my castellan. He will stay while we can travel. Show me Braavos. Let's see Pentos, Volantis, Myr and Lys. It's possible.”

As Gendry anticipated Arya wriggled out of his arms and shot him an indignant look. “Don't you ever tire of discussing this? Why is it so important to you that we marry?”

“I don't want to father bastards, Arya. And don't tell me there is moon tea, I know there is. I want children. I want them with you. But they would be bastards, they would live without any claim.” Arya ignored his words and began to walk away. “Where are you going?”

“Home. To Winterfell.”

Gendry let out a growl, his frustration with her growing beyond all bearing. He grabbed her by the wrist and forced her to stop. “No you're not. You're not going anywhere.”  
Arya turned around and stared at him wide-eyed. “What was that?”, she asked incredulous.  
Gendry knew that his forcefulness would merely serve to spark her anger. However, he was running out of patience with her demeanour. He could not let her go. Not like this.“You really want to go and pretend that this never happened? You want to leave me and forget about me? Was whatever you told me a lie? Did whatever I tell you not matter to you at all, Arya?”

All at once the anger left her face and she looked to the side, chewing on her bottom lip. “Of course it matters, you stupid.”

“Then why do you want to go, Arya?,” he let go of her wrist and instead intertwined their fingers. She did not protest. “Are you not happy with me here?”

Arya met his gaze again and her lips formed into a sad smile. “I am. But you don't understand. I don't need all this. I don't need a title and gold and silk and featherbeds. Do you remember the song, Gendry? The song Tom Sevenstrings had played?” Of course Gendry remembered. He had brought up the song on the night when he had kissed her for the first time. He remembered every verse of it although Tom had played it only once. He had pictured them many times as the ones the song was talking about. Her as the forest lass and him as her forest love. He thought it funny that the words had become true. “You want to gift me things, that I don't need,” Arya continued. “I want to be with you. I want to be Arya and I want you to be Gendry. I don't want us to be lord and lady. I am here with you, am I not? Why does it matter if we marry or we don't?”

Instead of arguing against her words Gendry pulled her into another embrace and kissed the top of hear head. “Why is it that we always fight whenever we are in a godswood?”  
His question made Arya chuckle. “I don't know. Might be because you're so stubborn.”

Her resistance hurt him. It hurt him that she refused to become his wife. It hurt him that she was denying his wish. But he knew that losing her would hurt him even more. He had her here, in his arms, in his castle, in his bed. She had told him she was his. And he was hers. Nothing was more important than Arya, thus he tried to be satisfied with what she was willing to give to him. “I can face everything as long as you're with me,” Gendry whispered into her hair.

“I will go home one day.”

“Just promise me that you will visit. That I will see you again.”

“I promise,” she breathed. A quiet pledge in front of the heart tree. Words that ought to be the truth. She herself had told him, after all. She had said that no one can tell a lie in front of a heart tree. So he tightened his hold on her and breathed in her smell. She was his and he was hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that you've been criticising me for writing Arya too wayward. But I really wanted to insert the scene with the song. I hope you're not too disappointed with the chapter. It didn't turn out the way I wanted it to.


	13. Epilogue

Half a year had passed in a flash and with each passing day the Stormlands felt more and more like home to Arya. The North would always be her true home. Winterfell would always be the seat of her father's house, the place that would forever hold her heart. At least it is what she made herself believe. In spite of it all she had yet to return back home. All these weeks she had spent at Storm's End, falling asleep next to Gendry, waking up next to Gendry. Always telling herself that she would leave eventually and always delaying this departure. Gendry never asked. She knew he was content that she was staying so long and scared that she would leave one day. Yet he never bothered to ask and Arya appreciated it. It was some kind of unspoken agreement between the two. He would not ask when she would leave and she would not say that she would go. Instead they were living in the present, cherishing and loving each other in a tacit consent. 

After each time that Gendry told her that he loved her, Arya had believed him more and more. And one day she had realised that Gendry felt like home. It was not the Stormlands, which she too had come to like, but it was waking up next to the man that made her feel like home. He was the soothing force behind her. He gave her strength and peace and reassurance. She felt calm with him. Accepted and loved. He was familiar, he was warm, he was her sanctuary amongst all the chaos.

Arya had long since stopped thinking continuously about revenge. She had stopped thinking about Cersei albeit she remembered that she had sworn to herself to kill her. All these nights she had been listening to Gendry, who had never stopped to mollify her, to mitigate the pain and ease off the anger and the wrath. She had listened to his words. She had felt his arms around her and his breath on her skin, when he had sworn to love her and to revere her until his final breath of life. Despite the fear she had believed his words. She felt the wounds in her soul gradually healing. It was Gendry who had helped her. Through him she had discovered that she was not broken beyond repair. Gendry complemented her. And Arya knew that she was complementing him. Gendry felt like home. He was her home and she was unwilling to leave him. He had been the one to mend her, to support her and to be by her side ever since she had returned to Westeros. 

The realisation felt strange to her and at first she was reluctant to accept her change of heart. Nevertheless she was less averse to the thought than she had believed she would be. She knew it was what Gendry wanted and although she had opposed it all along, she had decided that she wanted it for herself, as well.  
So one night she took him by his hand and led him to the godswood of Storm's End. She led him beneath the heart tree, never letting go of his hand. The weirwood tree was young and without a face but it was a heart tree all the same. It would suffice. Snowflakes were falling softly on the naked branches of the young trees. The pale moonlight the only source of light. 

Arya watched the change in Gendry's facial expression when realisation finally hit him and she felt a tug at her heartstrings when she saw the love and thankfulness inside his eyes. It only served to reassure her in her decision. 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”, she began the ceremony. “Arya, of the House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” 

Gendry took one step closer to her and took her other hand into his before he answered, his voice thick with emotion. “Gendry, of House Baratheon. Do you take me, Arya of House Stark?”

Her father could not be there and no one else to present her, thus shortening the custom. It did not matter, Arya liked it better this way. No one there but the two of them. She did not need witnesses. No witnesses but for the old gods. She did not need a bridal gown. No wedding feast and guests and music. She was with him and it was all that mattered.

“I take this man,” Arya finally said and the ceremony was done. She was his wife now. Her name was Arya Baratheon, although she would always be a Stark.

“Arya,” Gendry breathed and took her face into his hands. He stared at her as if he had been starving all along and his hunger now had finally appeased. As if he had been a dying man and now had finally found salvation.

“And what comes after the wedding?”, Arya asked cheekily, before she put her arms around Gendry's neck and pressed herself against his body. _My husband_ , she thought. It would take a while to get accustomed to the sound of it. Contrary to her expectations she felt good. Happy and almost light-headed.

Gendry then too wrapped his arms around her slender frame and placed a strong and firm kiss on her lips before he grinned into their kiss. “I would not want to miss out on that, m'lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's the end of the main story. I plan to write a few more chapters as a sequel, also from other POVs. Life doesn't end with marriage after all. Arya suddenly had a change of heart yes - but I think she was merely stubborn all along. I hope you don't feel the ending too unlikely.
> 
> I want to thank you all for following this petty story for so long. A special thanks to the reviewers. You can't imagine how stupidly I was giggling each time I got a notification. Thank you so much.
> 
> \- Elena


End file.
